WONDER  STORIES 
«SZ  MABINOGION/ 


WARD  BROOKS  / 


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"Wonder  Stories 
from  the  Mkbino  tf  ion 

BY    DS    EDWARD    BROOKS    A.M 


of 


"Th»  Siory  of  gjatf  Arthur".  "The  StoryofTri/tr«ori  etc 


THE  FENN    PUBLISHING   COMPANY 

MCMIX 


COPYRIGHT 
1908  BY 
THE  PENN 
PUBLISHING 
COMPANY 


URC 


PREFACE 

The  stories  of  this  book  had  their  origin  in  Wales 
as  early  perhaps  as  the  fifth  or  sixth  century.  They 
are  the  product  of  the  early  Welsh  people,  who 
were  noted  for  their  active  fancy,  vivid  imagina- 
tion, and  love  of  the  marvelous.  They  show  a 
simple  and  childlike  spirit  that  finds  a  ready  belief 
in  the  deeds  of  magic  and  enchantment,  and  are 
thus  a  mirror  of  the  character  of  the  early  Celtic 
people  whom  we  call  Britons.  It  is  believed  that 
these  wonder  stories,  so  full  of  heroic  adventures 
and  supernatural  incidents,  will  be  found  of  es- 
pecial interest  to  the  young. 

The  people  of  Wales,  like  the  primitive  people 
of  other  nations,  were  at  an  early  date  given  to  the 
reciting  of  marvelous  adventures  in  both  prose 
and  poetry.  These  adventures  were  sung  by  their 
bards  and  related  by  their  story  tellers  from  one 
generation  to  another,  and  were  thus  preserved  as 
folk  lore  throughout  the  centuries.  At  length 
when  a  knowledge  of  writing  was  introduced  they 
were  put  into  a  permanent  form  of  written  manu- 
scripts to  be  preserved  for  modern  times.  These 
manuscripts  are  found  in  the  public  libraries  of  sev- 


preface 

eral  institutions,  as  the  British  Museum,  Jesus  Col- 
lege at  Oxford,  the  University  of  Cambridge,  and 
in  the  hands  of  private  individuals.  So  difficult 
were  they  of  access  and  so  few  scholars  understood 
the  Welsh  language  that  for  many  years  no  suc- 
cessful attempt  was  made  to  give  them  to  the  world 
of  English  readers. 

One  of  the  earliest  attempts  to  present  these 
manuscripts  to  the  public  was  that  of  Mr.  Owen 
Jones,  who  in  1801-3  published  in  three  volumes  a 
large  number  of  ancient  Welsh  poems  and  prose 
compositions.  Mr.  Jones  was  a  furrier  in  London 
and  the  son  of  a  Welshman,  and  his  patriotic  spirit 
is  shown  in  the  fact  that  the  publication  of  these 
volumes  cost  him  a  considerable  share  of  his  for- 
tune. Edward  Williams,  a  stone  mason,  was  the 
chief  contributor  to  the  collection,  and  Dr.  William 
Owen  was  the  author  of  the  principal  dictionary  of 
the  Welsh  terms  used.  Owing  to  a  lack  of  knowl- 
edge and  critical  judgment  on  the  part  of  the  trans- 
lators and  compilers,  the  work  proved  of  little  value 
and  attracted  but  little  attention  at  that  time. 

The  most  noted  of  these  manuscripts  was  called 
the  Red  Book  of  Hergest,  so  called  from  Hergest 
Court,  one  of  the  seats  of  the  Vaughns,  for  whom 
it  was  probably  compiled.  This  important  manu- 
script, the  chief  repository  of  Welsh  literature,  is 
a  folio  volume  of  360  leaves  of  vellum,  written  in 
double  columns  at  different  times  from  the  early 

vi 


preface 

part  of  the  fourteenth  to  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth 
century.  It  has  lain  for  many  years  and  is  now  in 
the  library  of  Jesus  College,  Oxford.  It  contains  a 
body  of  poems  together  with  eleven  prose  tales, 
four  of  which  are  called  Mabinogion,  the  plural  of 
Mabinogi,  or  tale,  or  as  sometimes  rendered,  Tales 
for  Youth. 

This  manuscript  had  aroused  the  interest  of 
English  scholars  and  poets,  and  a  translation  of 
it  was  ardently  desired,  but  the  difficulty  was  to 
find  persons  competent  to  do  the  work.  The 
Welsh  is  a  spoken  language  among  the  peasantry 
of  Wales,  but  was  largely  neglected  by  scholars 
outside  of  the  natives  of  the  country.  Of  the  few 
Welsh  scholars  none  were  found  who  took  suffi- 
cient interest  in  these  old  poems  and  tales  to  at- 
tempt to  give  them  to  the  English  public.  The  lit- 
erary men  of  England,  among  whom  were  Southey 
and  Scott,  who  loved  the  old  romantic  legends  of 
their  country,  often  urged  upon  Welsh  literati  the 
duty  of  translating  the  Mabinogion  into  English. 
Through  the  influence  and  with  the  assistance  of 
Dr.  William  Ow'en,  Sharen  Jones  translated  a  por- 
tion of  the  work  of  which  the  poet  Southey  said 
"it  is  delightfully  translated  into  so  Welsh  an  idiom 
and  syntax  that  such  a  translation  is  as  instructive 
as  the  original."  But  it  is  presumed  that  the  trans- 
lator had  an  imperfect  knowledge  of  literary 
English  and  the  work  was  never  published. 

vii 


Preface 

At  length,  in  the  early  part  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  there  appeared  an  individual  of  the  requi- 
site knowledge  of  the  two  languages  and  of  en- 
thusiasm sufficient  for  the  task,  and  also  of  pecuni- 
ary resources  sufficient  to  be  independent  of  the 
booksellers  and  the  reading  public.  This  person 
was  Lady  Charlotte  Guest,  an  English  lady,  the 
wife  of  a  gentleman  of  property  in  Wales,  who 
having  acquired  a  knowledge  of  the  Welsh  lan- 
guage and  possessing  an  enthusiastic  admiration 
for  these  literary  treasures,  set  herself  to  their 
translation.  In  1838  she  published  in  four  octavo 
volumes  a  translation  of  the  eleven  prose  tales  of 
the  Red  Book,  accompanied  by  their  Welsh  origi- 
nals and  a  mass  of  useful  and  scholarly  notes. 

Several  of  these  tales,  it  will  be  seen,  refer  to 
King  Arthur  and  some  of  the  Knights  of  the 
Round  Table.  They  were  probably  conceived  at  a 
much  earlier  period  than  those  presented  in  Sir 
Thomas  Malory's  "Morte  D'Arthur";  but  they, 
with  other  tales  of  that  early  period  not  reduced  to 
writing,  may  have  constituted  the  original  germs 
of  the  Arthurian  romances  which  later  overspread 
Europe  and  were  finally  put  in  permanent  and 
poetic  form  by  the  genius  of  Malory.  Geoffrey  of 
Monmouth,  it  will  be  remembered,  published  his 
History  of  the  Britons  in  1156,  and  in  it  he  states 
that  the  source  of  his  material  was  a  Welsh  book 

viii 


preface 

given  him  by  a  certain  person  since  supposed  to  be 
a  Walter  Map  or  Mapes. 

The  origin  of  the  characters  and  incidents  of 
King  Arthur  and  the  Knights  of  the  Round  Table 
is  undoubtedly  due  to  the  bards  and  storytellers  of 
Wales.  In  the  bardic  songs  and  elsewhere  frequent 
allusion  is  made  to  this  heroic  prince  who  with  his 
warriors  resisted  the  Saxon  invaders  of  Britain. 
His  deeds  were  magnified  by  the  Welsh  Britons, 
and  the  chroniclers  wove  these  traditions  into  a 
legendary  history  of  Britain,  and  from  this  source 
Geoffrey  constructed  his  work,  which  the  poets  of 
chivalry,  allured  by  the  beauty  and  pathos  of  the 
tale,  made  for  several  centuries  the  centre  of  the 
most  glowing  pictures  of  romance.  These  tales 
passed  over  into  France  and  were  especially  popu- 
lar with  that  romantic  people.  Modified  by  the 
classic  taste  and  inventive  genius  of  the  Normans, 
they  received  their  final  and  exquisitely  beautiful 
form  through  the  poetic  genius  of  Malory. 

The  stories  of  the  Mabinogion,  while  full  of 
strange  and  interesting  adventures,  are  inferior  in 
literary  finish  and  poetic  beauty  to  those  of  Malory. 
They  indicate  a  much  earlier  and  ruder  period  of 
society  and  a  stronger  belief  in  the  influence  of 
magic  and  in  supernatural  events  and  incidents. 
There  is  in  these  tales  an  almost  complete  absence 
of  the  spirit  of  Christianity,  which  like  a  golden 
thread  runs  through  the  entire  narrative  of  the  Ar- 

ix 


preface 

thurian  legends.  But  while  sometimes  rough  and 
bloody,  they  are  free  from  any  incidents  of  indeli- 
cacy or  impurity,  in  marked  contrast  to  the  Ho- 
meric poems  and  the  early  literature  of  Southern 
Europe.  They  indicate  that  the  people  of  Wales 
were  accustomed  to  modesty  and  purity  of  thought 
and  speech,  characteristics  for  which  they  are 
noted  at  the  present  time. 

One  marked  feature  of  these  tales,  as  already  in- 
timated, is  their  extravagance  and  lack  of  restraint 
as  compared  with  the  tales  of  King  Arthur.  Of 
the  many  instances  of  this  nature  we  mention  those 
of  Sir  Kay,  who  could  remain  for  nine  days  and 
nights  under  water,  and  render  himself  as  tall  as 
the  highest  tree  in  the  forest;  of  Bedyr,  who  had  a 
lance  that  would  produce  a  wound  equal  to  those 
of  nine  opposing  lances;  of  the  courser  of  Kilwch 
whose  tread  was  so  light  that  the  blades  of  grass 
bent  not  beneath  it;  of  Menw  who  could  cast  a 
charm  over  a  country  that  none  of  its  people  could 
see  him  and  his  companions,  while  they  could  see 
the  people;  of  the  making  of  the  wife  of  Llew  Llaw 
Gyffes  out  of  flowers,  and  of  the  changing  of  her 
into  an  owl;  of  the  stretching  of  the  body  of  Bendi- 
geid  Vran  across  a  river  as  a  bridge  upon  which 
his  army  could  pass  over;  of  the  changing  of  women 
into  mice  to  feed  upon  the  grain  of  Manawyddan, 
and  changing  them  back  again  into  women.  But 
these  wild  flights  of  fancy,  though  detracting  from 


preface 

the  literary  merits  of  the  tales,  add  to  their  interest 
for  youthful  readers  who  delight  in  the  magical 
adventures  of  the  Arabian  Nights  and  works  of 
a  similar  character. 

Another  striking  feature  of  these  stories  is  the 
intense  feeling  of  color  possessed  by  these  early 
people  of  Wales.  Thus  in  the  story  of  Kilwch 
and  Olwen  we  read  the  following  exquisite  descrip- 
tion : — "The  maiden  was  clothed  in  a  robe  of  flame- 
colored  silk;  and  about  her  neck  was  a  collar  of 
ruddy  gold  on  which  were  precious  emeralds  and 
rubies.  More  yellow  was  her  head  than  the  flow- 
ers of  the  broom;  and  her  skin  was  whiter  than 
the  foam  of  the  wave;  and  fairer  were  her  hands 
and  her  fingers  than  the  blossoms  of  the  vivid 
anemone  amidst  the  spray  of  the  meadow  foun- 
tain. Her  bosom  was  more  snowy  than  the 
breast  of  the  white  swan;  her  cheek  was  redder 
than  the  reddest  roses.  Whoso  beheld  her  was 
filled  with  love  for  her.  Four  white  trefoils  sprang 
up  wherever  she  trod,  and  therefore  she  was  called 
Olwen."  Many  other  passages  illustrate  the  deli- 
cate sense  of  these  people  to  the  charms  of  the 
hues  and  tints  of  land  and  sea.  In  this  respect  the 
Celts  seem  to  have  been  much  superior  to  the 
Greeks  who,  as  represented  by  Homer,  had  a 
limited  knowledge  or  appreciation  of  color,  or  but 
little  taste  for  it  in  literary  description. 

The  fondness  of  the  early  people  of  Wales  for 

xi 


preface 

ornaments  of  gold,  silver,  precious  stones  and 
costly  fabrics  is  also  apparent  in  these  tales.  In 
the  Dream  of  Maxen  Wledig  we  read:  "And  he 
saw  a  maiden  sitting  before  him  in  a  chair  of  ruddy 
gold.  A  vest  of  white  silk  was  upon  her,  with 
clasps  of  red  gold  at  the  breast;  and  a  surcoat  of 
gold  tissue  upon  her,  and  a  frontlet  of  red  gold 
upon  her  head,  and  rubies  and  gems  were  in  the 
frontlet,  alternating  with  pearls  and  imperial 
stones.  And  a  girdle  of  ruddy  gold  was  around 
her."  In  the  Dream  of  Rhonabwy,  in  describing  a 
Knight,  we  read, — "A  golden  helmet  was  upon  the 
head  of  the  Knight,  wherein  were  set  sapphire 
stones  of  great  virtue.  And  at  the  top  of  the  hel- 
met was  the  figure  of  a  flame  colored  lion  with  a 
fiery-red  tongue  issuing  above  a  foot  from  his 
mouth,"  etc.  These  and  other  passages  show  the 
fondness  of  the  early  Celts  for  richness  of  apparel 
and  costly  ornaments;  and  are  as  perfect  in  their 
way  as  the  similar  descriptions  in  the  Iliad  pictur- 
ing the  dress  of  the  warriors  and  Celestial  deities. 
Another  peculiarity  of  these  tales  is  the  Quaker- 
like  reserve  in  respect  to  titles.  In  Malory's  book 
we  are  accustomed  to  the  titles  of  King,  Queen 
and  Sir  used  before  the  names  of  the  various  peo- 
ple; as  King  Arthur,  Queen  Guinevere,  Sir  Ga- 
waine,  Sir  Kay,  etc. ;  while  in  the  Mabinogion  these 
titles  are  ignored  and  they  are  spoken  to  and  of  as 
Arthur,  Guinevere,  Gawaine,  Kay,  etc.  In  a  num- 

xii 


preface 

ber  of  cases,  I  have,  in  this  version  of  the  work, 
supplied  the  appropriate  titles  to  the  different 
characters  especially  to  King  Arthur  and  Queen 
Guinevere  as  seeming  more  in  accord  with  the 
courteous  spirit  of  the  days  of  Knighthood. 

There  are  eleven  stories  in  the  Mabinogion  as 
translated  by  Lady  Guest.  All  of  these  are  given 
in  this  book,  though  their  order  has  been  some- 
what changed  with  the  purpose  of  securing  greater 
variety  and  thus  adding  to  the  interest  of  young 
readers.  Several  of  the  stories  are  given  almost 
verbatim,  but  most  of  them  are  abbreviated  by 
omitting  uninteresting  details;  and  in  many  cases 
the  language  is  slightly  changed  to  correspond 
more  nearly  with  present  usage.  Enough  of  the 
language  of  the  translator,  however,  is  retained  to 
preserve  the  literary  flavor  and  quaintness  of  the 
original.  The  story  of  "Sir  Gawaine  and  the  Red 
Knight"  is  selected  from  a  source  other  than  the 
Mabinogion. 

I  have  also  changed  the  names  and  the  spelling 
of  several  characters  to  correspond  with  the  same 
names  or  their  equivalents  in  Malory's  King  Ar- 
thur. Thus  in  the  Mabinogion  we  have  "Gwen- 
hwyvar"  which  is  here  changed  to  the  simpler  form 
of  Guinevere;  "Gwalchmai"  is  the  "Sir  Gawaine" 
of  Malory's  work,  and  in  this  book  the  latter  form 
is  used.  Sir  Kay  is  in  the  Mabinogion  spelled  Kai, 
but  I  have  preferred  to  use  the  former  spelling  as 

xiii 


preface 

the  readers  of  my  "Story  of  King  Arthur"  and  the 
"Story  of  Tristram"  are  familiar  with  that  form. 
A  few  other  changes  have  been  made  in  the  text  to 
correspond  with  modern  literary  usage.  The 
longer  stories  have  been  divided  into  chapters  with 
the  view  of  adding  to  the  interest  of  young  readers. 
As  in  my  other  stories  for  the  young,  beginning 
with  the  Story  of  the  Iliad,  I  have  written  this 
book  for  the  information  and  interest  of  the  boys 
and  girls  of  my  country.  I  have  spent  a  long  life 
in  the  education  and  supervision  of  the  teachers  of 
the  young,  and  these  young  people  are  very  near 
and  dear  to  my  heart.  I  realize  that  on  their  proper 
training  in  knowledge  and  virtue  depend  not  only 
their  own  welfare  but  the  future  greatness  and 
glory  of  the  country;  and  I  send  forth  this  little 
volume  of  Wonder  Tales  in  the  hope  and  belief 
that  it  may  contribute  in  some  small  degree  to  their 
culture  and  happiness. 

EDWARD  BROOKS 

Philadelphia,  Nov.  20,  1907. 


xiv 


preface 

THE  PRONUNCIATION  OF  WELSH  NAMES 

The  spelling  of  Welsh  proper  names  seems  awk- 
ward and  uncouth  to  the  general  reader,  and  they 
are  difficult  of  correct  pronunciation.  For  this 
reason  I  have  omitted  many  names  found  in  the 
original,  and  have  modified  the  spelling  of  a  few 
names,  which  are  found  also  in  King  Arthur,  as  ex- 
plained in  the  preface.  A  few  directions  in  respect 
to  the  proper  pronunciation  of  those  names  given 
in  the  work  will  be  presented,  though  no  written 
explanation  can  indicate  the  exact  speech  of  the 
Welsh  people.  This  must  be  heard  and  imitated 
in  order  that  the  ear  and  tongue  may  become  ac- 
customed to  the  sounds. 

The  letters  presenting  the  greatest  difficulties 
are  w,  II,  y  and  ch.  The  letter  w  is  usually  pro- 
nounced oo  as  in  cool.  Thus  the  name  "Kilwch"  is 
pronounced  Kilhooch.  Where  the  w  precedes  a 
vowel  this  sound  of  oo,  of  course,  becomes  prac- 
tically the  consonant  sound  of  w;  as  for  examples, 
ooet  rapidly  pronounced  would  become  wet;  so  also 
in  "Llywarch"  or  "Gwyddion,"  the  w  before  the  a 
and  3;  would  be  sounded  like  the  English  w.  The 
//  is  similar  to  the  Spanish  //  in  llanos  but  with  an 
aspirated  sound  made  by  forcing  the  breath 
through  the  back  teeth  so  forcibly  as  to  give  to  the 
English  ear  the  sound  of  a  strongly  lisped  s.  If  the 
organs  be  arranged  so  as  to  pronounce  the  y  in 
yield  and  the  sound  lh  be  vigorously  forced  in  that 

xv 


preface 

position,  something  like  the  Welsh  //  results. 

The  letter  y,  if  long,  is  like  the  German  «,  or 
the  French  u  in  une;  or  very  nearly  like  the  English 
ee  in  seen.  The  y  short  is  much  like  our  short  u 
except  in  the  last  syllable  of  words,  where  it  is 
more  like  our  short  i  in  English. 

The  ch  is  gutteral,  as  in  the  Scotch  word  loch 
or  the  German  ach.  The  vowels  a,  e,  i,  in  the 
Welsh  names  are  mostly  sounded  as  short  English 
a,  e,  i;  the  o  as  long  o;  the  u  as  a  rapidly  pronounced 
M.  The  frequently  recurring  aw  is  like  ou  in  our 
word  our,  or  the  German  au  in  haus.  The  combi- 
nation dd  is  very  nearly  like  th  in  then,  only  with 
more  of  d  than  t  blended  with  the  sound  of  h. 

The  letter  c  is  always  k,  Celt  is  pronounced  Kelt, 
and  Cynon  as  Kynon;  there  is  no  soft  c  in  Welsh. 
The  f  is  always  v;  it  is  ff  that  has  the  sound  of  f 
as  in  our  word  fan.  The  letter  g  is  always  hard  as 
in  go;  the  f/t  is  sounded  as  in  our  word  thanks,  but 
not  as  in  then.  All  the  other  letters  may  be  given 
the  same  sound  that  they  have  in  English  names. 

These  suggestions  will  enable  the  readers  of 
these  stories  to  give  a  fairly  correct  pronunciation 
of  the  names  of  the  persons  and  places  mentioned, 
though  of  course  it  would  lack  some  of  those  pe- 
culiarities of  articulation  and  intonation  which  give 
a  peculiar  flavor  and  richness  to  the  Welsh  tongue. 


xvi 


CONTENTS 


THE  LADY  AND  THE  FOUNTAIN 

PAGB 

I.  THE  STRANGE  ADVENTURE  OF  KYNON 1 

II.  THE  ADVENTURE  OF  OWAIN  WITH  THE  COUNTESS 10 

III.  GAWAINE  GOES  ON  AN  ADVENTURE  IN  SEARCH  OF  OWAIN..  20 

IV.  OWAIN  AGAIN  FINDS  THE  COUNTESS 31 

KILWCH  AND  OLWEN 

I.     How  KILWCH  SOUGHT  OLWEN  FOR  His  WIFE 38 

II.     How  KILWCH  WON  OLWEN  FOR  His  WIFE 57 

SIR  GAWAINE  AND  THE  GREEN  KNIGHT   71 

PEREDUR,  THE  SON  OF  EVRAWC 

I.  How  PEREDUR  BECAME  A  KNIGHT 84 

II.  How  PEREDUR  RESCUED  A  FAIR  LADY    05 

III.  How  PEREDUR  AVENGED  HIMSELF  ON  SIR  KAT 106 

IV.  How  PEREDUR  WON  His  LADY  LOVE 113 

V.  How  PEREDUR  SLEW  THE  SERPENT  ADDANC 121 

VI.     How  PEREDUR  SOUGHT  THE  CASTLE  OF  WONDERS 134 

GERAINT  AND  ENID 

I.  How  GERAINT  WON  ENID  FOR  His  BRIDE 148 

II.  How  GERAINT  CAME  TO  THE  COURT  OF  KINO  ARTHUR.  . . .  161 

III.  How  GERAINT  RETURNED  FROM  CORNWALL 167 

IV.  How  ENIU  AND  GERAINT  BECAME  UNHAPPY 173 

V.  How  GERAINT  MET  ARTHUR  AND  GAWAINE 188 

VI.     How  GERAINT  AND  ENID  BECAME  HAPPY  AGAIN 103 

THE  STORY  OF  PWYLL  AND  RHIANNON 

I.     How  PWYLL  WON  RHIANNON  FOR  His  BRIDE 200 

II.     Tux  FALSE  ACCUSATION  ASAINBT  RHIANNON...  .  .214 


Contents 

PAGE 
BRANWEN,  THE  DAUGHTER  OF  LLYR 

I.     How  BRANWEN  BECAME  THE  WIFE  or  MATHOLWCH 224 

II.     THE  SAO  FATE  OF  BRANWEN  AND  HER  SON 235 

THE  STORY  OF  MANAWYDDAN  AND  THE  MICE 

I.     How  MANAWYDDAN  AND  PRTDERI  WERE  LOST  IN  THE 

MAGIC  CASTLE 243 

II.     How  MANAWYDDAN  RESCUED  PHYDERI  AND  RHIANNON.  .  .253 

THE  DREAM  OF  MAXEN  WLEDIG 

I.     THE  DREAM  OF  THE  EMPEROR  MAXEN  WLEDIO 263 

II.     How  THE  EMPEROR  FOUND  THE  OBJECT  OF  His  DREAM... 272 

THE  STORY  OF  LLUDD  AND  LLEVELYS 278 

LLEW  LLAW  AND  HIS  WIFE 

I.     How  LLEW  LLAW  GOT  His  NAME  AND  His  WIFE 287 

II.     THE  FATE  OF  LLEW  LLAW  AND  His  WIFE 296 

THE  DREAM  OF  RHONABWY 306 

THE  STORY  OF  TALIESEN. .  .  .325 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PACK 
RIGHT  GLAD  WAS  TH»  COUNTESS  OF  THEIB  COMING Frontispiece 

THEN  THEY  SAW  A  CHEAT  SMOKE  WHICH  DID  Nor  BEND 

WITH  THE  WIND 67 

AND  BEHOLD  ONE  DAT  ANOHARAD  LAW  EVRAWC  MET  HIM ,119 

Aa  SHE  SPOKE  THE  TEARS  DROPPED  FROM  HER  EYES  ON 

HER  HUSBAND  's  BREAST .' 174 

THEY  CAUSED  THE  BUTCHER  TO  COME  TO  HER  EVERY  DAY 

AND  GIVE  HER  A  BLOW 229 

AND  WHEN  HE  CAMS  INTO  THE  COURT  ARIANROD  AROSE 

TO  MEET  HIM  288 

Bur  WHEN  THE  BARD  CAME  Hx  COULD  DO  NOTHING  BUT  PLAY 336 


Dedication  of  Lady  Charlotte  Guest,  the  translator  of 
the  Mabinogion,  to  her  two  sons  Ivor  and  Merthyr. 
"My  Dear  Children: 

"Infants  as  you  are,  I  feel  that  I  cannot  dedicate  more 
fitly  than  to  you  these  venerable  relics  of  ancient  lore, 
and  I  do  so  in  the  hope  of  inciting  you  to  cultivate  the 
literature  of  "Wyllt  Walia,"  in  whose  beautiful  language 
you  are  being  initiated  and  amongst  whose  free  moun- 
tains you  were  born." 

"May  you  become  early  imbued  with  the  chivalric  and 
exalted  sense  of  honor,  and  the  fervent  patriotism  for 
which  its  sons  have  ever  been  celebrated." 

"May  you  learn  to  emulate  the  noble  qualities  of  Ivor 
Hael,  and  the  firm  attachment  to  your  Native  Country, 
which  distinguished  that  Ivor  Bach,  after  whom  the  elder 
of  you  was  named." 


dtotie*  (torn  tlje 

inogion 


itaby    anb    tfye   JFountam 

Chapter  I 

QTI)C   Strange  a&fct  nturc    of   &;pn<>n 

NCE  upon  a  time  King  Arthur  was  at 
Caerleon  upon  the  Usk.  And  it 
chanced  that  he  was  in  his  chamber, 
and  with  him  were  Owain,  son  of  Urien,  and  Ky- 
non,  son  of  Clydno,  and  Kay,  the  son  of  Kyner. 
And  in  the  chamber  also  was  Queen  Guinevere, 
who  sat  with  her  hand-maidens  at  needlework  by 
the  window.  In  the  centre  of  the  chamber  King1 
Arthur  sat  upon  a  seat  of  green  rushes  over  which 
was  spread  a  covering  of  flame  colored  satin,  and 
a  cushion  of  red  satin  was  under  his  elbow. 

As  the  day  drew  to  its  close  and  they  were  wait- 
ing for  the  evening  repast,   King  Arthur  grew 


"Cdonfcer  Stories 

drowsy  and  said,  "I  will  sleep  awhile  and  you  may 
entertain  one  another  with  relating  tales,  and  may 
also  regale  yourselves  with  a  flagon  of  mead  and 
some  meat  which  Sir  Kay  will  bring  you."  So  the 
king  went  to  sleep.  Then  Kynon  asked  Sir  Kay 
to  get  that  which  King  Arthur  had  promised  them ; 
to  which  Sir  Kay  replied  that  he  would  bring  them 
forthwith  and  at  the  same  time  listen  to  the  good 
tale  which  Kynon  had  promised.  But  Sir  Kynon 
said  that  it  would  be  better  to  have  the  good  things 
to  eat  and  drink  first,  and  then  he  would  tell  them 
the  best  tale  that  he  knew. 

So  Sir  Kay  went  to  the  kitchen  and  to  the  mead 
cellar  and  soon  returned  bearing  a  flagon  of  mead, 
and  a  golden  goblet,  and  a  handful  of  skewers  upon 
which  were  broiled  collops  of  meat.  Then  they 
gathered  around  the  table  and  began  to  eat  the 
collops  and  drink  the  mead. 

"Now,"  said  Sir  Kay,  "it  is  time  for  Kynon  to 
give  us  his  story." 

"Kynon,"  said  Owain,  "do  thou  pay  to  Sir  Kay 
the  tale  that  is  his  due." 

To  which  Sir  Kynon  replied,  "I  will  do  so, 
though  I  know  that  thou  art  a  better  teller  of  tales 
than  I  am."  Then  Sir  Kynon  told  the  tale  as  we 
shall  relate  it. 

"I  was  the  only  son  of  my  father  and  my  mother, 
and  in  my  youth  I  was  exceedingly  aspiring  and 
full  of  daring.  Indeed,  I  thought  there  was  no 


fftom  tbc  nDaWnogton 

enterprise  in  the  world  too  mighty  for  me.  So 
after  I  had  achieved  all  the  adventures  that  I  could 
find  in  my  own  country,  I  set  forth  to  journey 
throughout  distant  countries  in  search  of  new  ones. 
And  at  length  it  chanced  that  I  came  to  the  fair- 
est valley  in  the  world,  wherein  were  trees  all  of 
equal  growth;  and  a  river  ran  through  the  valley, 
and  a  path  was  by  the  side  of  the  river.  I  followed 
the  path  until  midday,  and  continued  my  journey 
along  the  rest  of  the  valley  until  the  evening;  and 
at  the  end  of  a  plain  I  came  to  a  large  and  lustrous 
castle,  at  the  foot  of  which  was  a  torrent  of  water. 

"As  I  approached  the  castle,  I  beheld  two  youths 
with  yellow  curling  hair,  each  with  a  frontlet  of 
gold  upon  his  head  and  each  clad  in  a  garment  of 
yellow  satin ;  and  they  had  golden  clasps  upon  their 
insteps.  In  the  hand  of  each  of  them  was  an  ivory 
bow,  strung  with  the  sinews  of  the  stag;  and  their 
arrows  and  their  shafts  were  of  the  bone  of  the 
whale  and  were  winged  with  peacocks'  feathers. 
The  shafts  also  had  golden  heads.  And  they  had 
daggers  in  their  belts  with  blades  of  gold  and  with 
hilts  of  the  bone  of  the  whale.  And  as  I  looked  I 
saw  that  they  were  shooting  with  their  arrows  at 
a  mark. 

"A  little  way  from  these  I  saw  a  man  in  the  prime 
of  life,  with  his  beard  newly  shorn,  clad  in  a  robe 
and  mantle  of  yellow  satin;  and  round  the  top  of 
his  mantle  was  a  band  of  gold  lace.  On  his  feet 


TOonfcer  Stories 

were  shoes  of  variegated  leather  fastened  by  two 
bosses  of  gold.  When  I  saw  him  I  went  towards 
him  and  saluted  him;  and  as  soon  as  he  received 
my  greeting  he  returned  it,  and  bade  me  go  with 
him  towards  the  castle. 

"Now  in  the  castle  were  four  and  twenty  damsels 
seated  at  the  windows  embroidering  satin;  and 
were  the  fairest  maids  that  ever  were  seen  in 
Britain,  lovelier  even  than  Queen  Guinevere,  the 
wife  of  King  Arthur.  They  all  rose  up  at  my  com- 
ing, and  six  of  them  took  my  horse  and  divested 
me  of  my  armor;  and  six  others  took  my  arms  and 
washed  them  in  a  vessel  till  they  were  perfectly 
bright.  And  the  third  six  spread  cloths  upon  the 
tables  and  prepared  meat.  And  the  fourth  six  took 
off  my  soiled  garments,  and  placed  upon  me  an 
under  vest  and  a  doublet  of  fine  linen,  and  a  robe 
and  a  surcoat,  and  a  mantle  of  yellow  satin  with 
a  broad  gold  band  upon  the  mantle.  And  they 
placed  cushions  both  beneath  me  and  around  me, 
with  coverings  of  red  linen  upon  which  I  was 
seated.  Then  they  brought  bowls  of  silver  where- 
in was  water  to  wash,  and  towels  of  linen,  some 
green  and  some  white;  and  I  washed. 

"And  in  a  little  while  the  man  of  the  castle  sat 
down  to  the  table,  and  I  sat  next  to  him ;  and  below 
me  sat  all  the  maidens  except  those  who  waited  on 
us.  The  table  was  of  silver  and  the  cloths  upon  the 
table  were  of  linen;  and  every  vessel  served  upon 

4 


from  the  n&abtnooton 

tlie  table  was  either  of  gold  or  silver  or  buffalo 
horn.  And  there  was  brought  meat  of  every  kind 
and  every  sort  of  liquor  that  could  be  named. 

"At  the  repast  no  one  spoke  a  word  until  it  was 
half  over;  but  when  the  man  who  sat  next  to  me 
saw  that  it  would  be  agreeable  for  me  to  converse 
with  him,  he  began  to  inquire  of  me  who  I  was. 
Then  I  told  the  man  who  I  was,  and  that  I  was 
seeking  whether  any  one  was  superior  to  me,  or 
whether  I  could  gain  the  mastery  over  all.  The 
man  looked  upon  me  and  smiled,  and  said,  'If  I 
did  not  fear  to  do  thee  a  mischief,  I  would  show 
thee  that  which  thou  seekest.' 

"Upon  this  I  became  somewhat  anxious  and 
thoughtful,  which  when  the  man  perceived  it  he 
said,  'Sleep  here  to-night  and  in  the  morning  arise 
early,  and  take  the  road  upward  through  the  valley 
until  thou  reachest  the  wood  through  which  thou 
earnest  hither.  A  little  way  within  the  wood  thou 
wilt  come  to  a  large  sheltered  glade,  with  a  mound 
in  the  centre.  And  on  the  top  of  the  mound  thou 
wilt  see  -a  black  man  of  great  stature,  as  large  as 
two  ordinary  men.  He  has  but  one  foot,  and  one 
eye  in  the  middle  of  his  forehead;  and  in  his  hand 
is  a  club  of  iron  as  large  as  two  men  could  lift.  He 
is  the  wood-ward  of  that  wood;  and  around  him 
thou  wilt  see  a  thousand  wild  animals  grazing.  In- 
quire of  him  the  way  out  of  the  glade,  and  he  will 
reply  to  thee  briefly,  and  will  point  out  the  road  by 

5 


Wonfccr  Stories 

which  thou  shall  find  that  which  thou  art  in  quest 
of.' 

"Then  we  withdrew  from  the  hall  and  sought  our 
chambers  of  rest.  Long  seemed  that  night  to  me; 
but  early  next  morning  I  arose  and  equipped  my- 
self, and  mounted  my  horse,  and  proceeded  straight 
through  the  valley  to  the  wood,  till  at  length  I  ar- 
rived at  the  glade.  The  black  man  was  there,  sit- 
ting upon  the  top  of  the  mound,  while  around  him 
were  many  wild  animals.  Huge  of  stature  as  the 
man  had  told  me  he  was,  indeed  I  found  him  to  ex- 
ceed by  far  the  description  he  had  given  me.  As 
for  the  iron  club  which  the  man  had  told  me  was  a 
burden  for  two  men,  I  am  certain  that  it  would  be 
a  heavy  weight  for  four  warriors  to  lift.  Then  I 
asked  him  what  power  he  had  over  those  animals. 

"  'I  will  show  thee,  little  man,'  he  said. 

"And  he  took  his  club  in  his  hand,  and  with  it 
he  struck  a  stag  a  great  blow,  so  that  he  brayed 
vehemently;  and  at  his  braying  the  animals  came 
together  as  numerous  as  the  stars  in  the  sky,  so 
that  it  was  difficult  for  me  to  find  room  in  the  glade 
to  stand  among  them.  There  were  serpents,  and 
dragons,  and  divers  sorts  of  animals  wild  and 
fierce.  And  he  looked  at  them  and  bade  them  go 
and  feed;  and  they  bowed  their  heads,  and  did  him 
homage  as  vassals  to  a  lord. 

"Then  the  black  man  said  to  me,  'Seest  thou 
6 


fftom  tbe  n&abino$fon 

now,  little  man,  what  power  I  hold  over  these  ani- 
mals?' 

"When  I  saw  his  power  over  the  animals  I  asked 
him  the  way,  desiring  to  continue  my  journey.  He 
asked  me  roughly  whither  I  would  go.  And  when 
I  told  him  who  I  was  and  what  I  sought,  he  said  to 
me,  Take  the  path  that  leads  toward  the  head  of 
the  glade,  and  there  thou  wilt  find  an  open  space 
like  to  a  large  valley,  and  in  the  midst  of  it  a  tall 
tree.  Under  this  tree  is  a  fountain,  and  by  the 
side  of  the  fountain  a  marble  slab,  and  on  the  mar- 
ble slab  a  silver  bowl,  fastened  by  a  chain  of  silver 
so  that  it  may  not  be  carried  away.  Take  the  bowl, 
and  throw  a  bowlful  of  water  upon  the  slab.  And 
if  thou  dost  not  find  trouble  in  that  adventure  thou 
needest  not  seek  it  during  the  rest  of  thy  life.' 

"So  I  journeyed  on  until  I  reached  the  summit 
of  the  steep;  and  there  I  found  everything  as  the 
black  man  had  described  it  to  me.  And  I  went  up 
to  the  tree,  and  beneath  it  I  saw  the  fountain,  and 
by  its  side  the  marble  slab,  and  the  silver  bowl  fast- 
ened by  the  chain.  Then  I  took  the  bowl  and  cast 
a  bowlful  of  water  upon  the  slab;  and  immediately 
I  heard  a  mighty  peal  of  thunder,  so  that  heaven 
and  earth  seemed  to  tremble  with  its  fury.  And 
after  the  thunder  came  a  shower  of  hail  stones;  of 
a  truth  it  was  such  a  shower  as  neither  man  nor 
beast  could  endure  and  live.  So  I  turned  my 
horse's  flank  toward  the  shower,  and  placed  the 


TOonfcer  Stories 

back  of  my  shield  over  his  head  and  neck,  while  I 
held  the  upper  part  of  it  over  my  own  neck.  And 
thus  I  withstood  the  shower. 

"And  presently  the  sky  became  clear;  and  with 
that,  behold,  the  birds  lighted  upon  the  tree  and 
sang.  And  truly  I  never  heard  any  melody  equal 
to  that  either  before  or  since.  And  when  I  was 
most  charmed  with  listening  to  the  birds,  lo!  a 
voice  of  one  approaching  was  heard  saying  in  chid- 
ing accents,  'O  knight,  what  has  brought  thee 
hither?  What  evil  have  I  done  to  thee  that  thou 
shouldst  act  toward  me  and  my  possessions  as 
thou  hast  to-day?  Dost  thou  not  know  that  the 
shower  to-day  has  left  in  my  dominions  neither 
man  nor  beast  alive  that  was  exposed  to  it  ?' 

"And  thereupon,  behold,  a  knight  on  a  black 
horse  appeared,  clothed  in  jet  black  velvet,  and 
with  a  tabard  of  black  linen  about  him.  And  we 
charged  upon  each  other,  and  as  the  onset  was 
furious,  it  was  not  long  before  I  was  overthrown. 
Then  the  knight  passed  his  lance  through  the  bri- 
dle rein  of  my  horse,  and  rode  off  with  the  two 
horses,  leaving  me  alone  where  I  was.  So  I  re- 
turned on  foot  along  the  road  by  which  I  had 
come;  and  when  I  reached  the  glade  where  the 
black  man  was,  I  confess  that  I  felt  to  sink  to  the 
ground  by  the  shame  I  felt  at  the  black  man's  deri- 
sion. 

"Onward  I  walked  until  by  night  I  came  to  the 
8 


ITrom  tbc  flDabinogton 

same  castle  where  I  had  spent  the  preceding  night; 
and  there  I  was  more  agreeably  entertained  than 
I  was  the  night  before.  I  conversed  freely  with 
the  inmates  of  the  castle;  and  none  of  them  alluded 
to  my  expedition  to  the  fountain,  neither  did  I 
mention  it  to  any.  When  I  arose  on  the  morrow,  I 
found  ready  saddled  a  dark  bay  palfrey,  with  nos- 
trils as  red  as  scarlet;  and  after  putting  on  my 
armor  and  leaving  there  my  blessing,  I  returned 
to  my  own  court.  And  that  horse  I  still  possess, 
and  he  is  in  the  stable  yonder;  and  I  declare  I  would 
not  part  with  him  for  the  best  palfrey  in  the  island 
of  Britain.  And  now  of  a  truth  it  seems  strange 
to  me  that  neither  before  nor  since  have  I  heard 
of  any  person  who  knew  of  this  adventure;  and 
more  strange  that  the  subject  of  it  should  exist 
within  King  Arthur's  dominion  without  any  other 
person  lighting  upon  it," 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  ADVENTURE  OF  OWAIN  WITH  THE  COUNTESS 

AT  the  story  of  Sir  Kynon  they  marvelled, 
and  Owain  said,  "Would  it  not  be  well  to 
go  and  endeavor  to  discover  this  place?" 
To  this  they  all  assented,  and  especially  Queen 
Guinevere.  And  King  Arthur,  who  had  been  sleep- 
ing, now  awoke,  and  also  gave  his  assent  to  the 
adventure.  Then  the  horn  for  washing  was 
sounded,  and  the  king  and  all  his  household  sat 
down  to  eat.  And  when  the  meal  was  ended, 
Owain  withdrew  to  his  lodging  and  made  ready 
his  horse  and  his  arms. 

On  the  morrow  with  the  dawn  of  day  he  put 
on  his  armor  and  mounted  his  charger  and  started 
on  his  adventure.  He  rode  through  many  coun- 
tries until  at  length  he  came  to  a  beautiful  valley, 
through  which  flowed  a  river  with  green  meadows 
on  either  side  as  Sir  Kynon  had  described.  Jour- 
neying along  the  valley,  by  the  side  of  the  river,  he 
followed  its  course  till  he  came  to  the  plain,  and 
then  beheld  a  large  and  stately  castle.  As  he  ap- 
proached the  castle  he  saw  the  youths  shooting 
with  their  arrows  in  the  place  where  Sir  Kynon  had 

10 


seen  them,  and  the  yellow  man  to  whom  the  castle 
belonged  standing  hard  by.  And  no  sooner  had 
Owain  saluted  the  yellow  man  than  he  was  saluted 
by  him  in  return. 

As  he  went  forward  towards  the  castle  he  saw 
within  it  a  chamber,  and  when  he  had  entered  the 
chamber,  he  beheld  the  four  and  twenty  maidens 
seated  in  chairs  of  gold  working  at  satin  embroid- 
ery. And  their  beauty  and  their  comeliness  seemed 
to  Owain  far  greater  than  Sir  Kynon  had  repre- 
sented to  him.  And  they  all  arose  to  wait  upon 
Owain  as  they  had  done  to  Sir  Kynon.  And  the 
meal  which  they  set  before  him  was  the  most  splen- 
did that  ever  he  had  seen. 

About  the  middle  of  the  feast  the  yellow  man 
asked  Owain  the  object  of  his  journey.  To  this 
Owain  replied,  "I  am  in  quest  of  the  knight  who 
guards  the  fountain."  Upon  this  the  yellow  man 
smiled,  and  said  that  he  was  as  loath  to  point  out 
that  adventure  to  him  as  he  had  been  to  Sir  Kynon. 
However,  he  described  the  whole  to  Owain,  and 
after  that  they  retired  to  rest. 

The  next  morning  Owain  found  his  horse  made 
ready  for  him  by  the  damsels;  and  he  set  forward 
and  came  to  the  glade  where  the  black  man  was. 
And  the  stature  of  the  black  man  seemed  more 
wonderful  to  Owain  than  it  had  done  to  Kynon; 
and  Owain  asked  him  of  his  road,  and  he  showed 
it  to  him.  Owain  followed  the  road,  as  Kynon 

II 


TOonfcer  Stories 

had  done,  until  he  came  to  the  green  tree;  and  he 
beheld  the  fountain  and  the  slab  beside  the  fountain 
with  the  bowl  upon  it.  Then  Owain  took  the  bowl 
and  threw  a  bowlful  of  water  upon  the  slab;  and,  lo ! 
the  thunder  was  heard,  and  after  the  thunder  came 
the  shower,  and  more  violent  than  Kynon  had  de- 
scribed it;  and  after  the  shower  the  sky  became 
bright  again.  And  immediately  the  birds  came 
and  settled  on  the  tree  and  sang. 

And  just  when  the  song  of  the  birds  was  most 
pleasing  to  Owain,  he  beheld  a  knight  coming 
toward  him  through  the  valley;  and  he  prepared 
to  meet  him;  and  the  two  knights  rode  together 
and  encountered  with  great  force.  Their  lances 
were  both  shivered,  and  then  they  drew  their 
swords  and  fought  blade  to  blade.  At  length 
Owain  struck  the  knight  a  blow  through  the  hel- 
met, head  piece  and  visor,  and  through  the  skin 
and  the  flesh  and  the  bone,  until  it  wounded  the 
very  brain.  Then  the  black  knight  felt  that  he 
had  received  a  mortal  wound,  upon  which  he 
turned  his  horse's  head  and  fled.  And  Owain  pur- 
sued him,  and  followed  close  upon  him,  although 
he  was  not  near  enough  to  him  to  strike  him  with 
his  sword. 

Thereupon  Owain  descried  a  vast  and  resplen- 
dent castle;  and  they  came  to  the  castle  gate.  And 
the  black  knight  was  allowed  to  enter;  and  as 
Owain  followed  him  the  portcullis  was  let  fall,  and 

12 


from  tbe  flDaWnoafon 

it  struck  his  horse  behind  the  saddle,  and  cut  him 
in  two,  and  carried  away  the  rowels  of  the  spurs 
that  were  upon  Owain's  heels.  And  the  portcullis 
descended  to  the  floor.  And  the  rowels  of  the 
spurs  and  part  of  the  horse  were  without;  and 
Owain  with  the  other  part  of  the  horse  remained 
between  the  two  gates;  and  the  inner  gate  was 
closed  so  that  Owain  could  not  go  thence;  and  he 
was  perplexed  to  know  what  to  do. 

Now  while  he  was  in  this  state  it  chanced  that 
through  an  aperture  in  the  gate  he  saw  a  street 
with  a  row  of  houses  on  each  side.  And  as  he 
looked  he  beheld  a  maiden,  with  yellow  curling 
hair,  and  a  frontlet  of  gold  upon  her  head;  and 
she  was  clad  in  a  dress  of  yellow  satin,  and  on  her 
feet  were  shoes  of  variegated  leather.  And  she 
came  to  the  gate  and  desired  that  it  should  be 
opened. 

"Heaven  knows,  fair  lady,"  said  Owain,  "it  is  no 
more  possible  for  me  to  open  the  gate  than  it  is 
for  thee  to  set  me  free."  And  he  told  her  his  name, 
and  who  he  was. 

"Truly,"  said  the  damsel,  "it  is  very  sad  to  see 
thee  in  such  a  state,  and  I  will  do  what  I  can  to 
release  thee,  for  I  know  there  is  no  one  more  faith- 
ful in  the  service  of  ladies  than  thou." 

So  she  passed  to  him  through  the  aperture  a  ring, 
and  said,  "Take  this  ring,  and  put  it  on  thy  finger, 
with  the  stone  inside  thy  hand,  and  close  thy  hand 

'3 


TOlonfcer  Stories 

upon  the  stone.  So  long  as  thou  concealest  it,  it 
will  conceal  thee,  and  when  they  come  to  fetch 
thee  to  put  thee  to  death  they  will  not  be  able  to 
find  thee.  I  will  await  thee  on  horseback  yonder, 
and  thou  wilt  be  able  to  see  me,  though  I  cannot 
see  thee;  therefore  come  and  place  thy  hand  upon 
my  shoulder,  that  I  may  know  that  thou  art  near 
me,  and  by  the  way  that  I  go  hence,  do  thou  ac- 
company me." 

Then  the  maiden  went  away  from  Owain,  and 
Owain  did  all  as  the  damsel  had  told  him.  And  the 
people  of  the  castle  came  to  seek  Owain  and  to 
put  him  to  death;  and  when  they  found  nothing  but 
half  of  his  horse,  they  were  amazed  and  sorely 
grieved.  But  Owain  passed  out  unseen  and  went 
to  the  maiden  and  put  his  hand  on  her  shoulder, 
and  she  led  him  to  a  large  and  beautiful  chamber 
that  was  richly  adorned  with  gorgeous  colors  and 
images  of  gold.  And  the  maiden  opened  the  door 
and  they  went  therein  and  closed  the  doors  after 
them.  The  maiden  kindled  a  fire,  and  took  water 
in  a  silver  bowl  and  gave  Owain  water  to  wash. 
Then  she  placed  before  him  a  silver  table,  inlaid 
with  gold,  upon  which  was  a  cloth  of  yellow  linen; 
and  she  served  him  with  delicious  food  in  vessels 
of  gold  and  silver,  the  best  he  had  ever  eaten. 

Now  while  Owain  was  eating,  he  heard  a  great 
clamor  in  the  castle,  and  he  asked  the  maiden  the 
cause  of  it.  "The  lord  of  the  castle  has  just  died," 


from  tbe  noabf notion 

she  said,  "and  they  are  giving  him  the  rites  of  the 
dead." 

Then  she  prepared  for  him  a  noble  couch  upon 
which  he  lay  down  and  slept  all  night.  In  the 
morning  he  was  awakened  by  a  loud  clamor  of 
wailing,  and  he  asked  the  maiden  the  cause  of  it. 
"They  are  bearing  the  body  of  the  dead  lord  who 
owned  the  castle  to  the  place  of  burial,"  said  the 
damsel. 

Then  Owain  arose  and  clothed  himself  and 
opened  a  window  of  the  chamber  and  looked 
toward  the  castle.  In  the  street  he  beheld  a  vast 
crowd  of  armed  men  and  of  armed  women  in  red 
attire,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  throng  was  a  bier 
on  which  lay  the  body  of  the  knight  he  had  slain. 
Behind  it  walked  a  lady  with  long  yellow  hair  that 
fell  over  her  shoulders,  and  her  dress  of  yellow 
satin  was  all  rent;  and  she  smote  her  hands  to- 
gether and  wailed  bitterly.  She  was  the  fairest 
lady  that  Owain  had  ever  seen,  and  as  soon  as  he 
beheld  her  he  became  inflamed  with  love  for  her, 
so  much  that  it  took  entire  possession  of  him. 
Then  he  inquired  of  the  maiden  who  the  lady  was. 

"She  is  my  mistress,"  replied  the  maiden,  "and 
she  is  the  fairest  and  most  noble  woman  that  ever 
was.  She  is  called  the  Countess  of  the  Fountain; 
and  she  is  the  wife  of  the  knight  whom  thou  didst 
slay  yesterday." 

15 


TJdonfcer  Stories 

"Verily,"  said  Owain,  "she  is  the  woman  that 
I  love  best  in  all  the  world." 

"That  is  well,"  said  the  damsel,  "and  she  shall 
also  love  thee  not  a  little  in  return." 

With  that  the  maiden  arose,  and  kindled  a  fire, 
and  filled  a  pot  with  water  and  placed  it  to  warm; 
and  she  brought  a  towel  of  white  linen  and  placed 
it  around  Owain's  neck;  and  she  took  a  goblet  of 
ivory  and  a  silver  basin,  and  filled  them  with  warm 
water,  wherewith  she  washed  Owain's  head.  Then 
she  opened  a  wooden  casket  and  drew  forth  a 
razor  whose  haft  was  of  ivory,  and  upon  which 
were  two  rivets  of  gold.  And  she  shaved  his  beard 
and  she  dried  his  head  and  his  throat  with  the 
towel.  Then  she  rose  up  before  Owain  and 
brought  him  to  the  repast;  and  after  he  had  eaten 
she  bade  him  lie  on  the  couch  and  sleep  while  she 
would  go  and  woo  the  lady  for  him. 

So  she  softly  shut  the  door  of  the  chamber  and 
went  straightway  to  the  castle  of  the  lady  whose 
lord  had  been  slain.  When  she  came  there  she 
found  nothing  but  mourning  and  sorrow;  and  the 
Countess  in  her  chamber  could  not  bear  the  sight 
of  any  one  on  account  of  her  grief.  The  damsel, 
whose  name  was  Luned,  and  who  was  a  favorite  at- 
tendant of  the  Countess,  went  in  and  saluted  her, 
but  the  Countess  answered  her  not.  And  the 
maiden  kneeled  before  her  saying,  "What  aileth 
thee  that  thou  answerest  no  one  to-day  ?"  And  the 

16 


ffrom  tbe 

Countess  sharply  reproached  the  maiden  for  not 
mourning  for  her  lord  as  all  the  rest  were  doing. 

"Truly,"  said  Luned,  "I  thought  thy  good  sense 
was  greater  than  I  find  it  to  be.  Is  it  well  for  thee 
to  mourn  for  that  good  man,  or  for  anything  else 
that  thou  canst  not  have?" 

"I  declare,"  said  the  Countess,  "that  in  the  whole 
world  there  is  not  a  man  equal  to  him." 

"Not  so,"  answered  Luned,  "for  an  ill-favored 
man  that  is  alive,  is  now  as  good  as  or  better  than 
a  good  favored  man  that  is  dead." 

At  this  the  Countess  was  exceedingly  wrathful, 
and  declared  to  Luned  that  she  would  banish  her 
from  her  court.  Luned  replied  that  the  only  cause 
for  her  speaking  thus  was  her  desire  to  render  her 
mistress  a  service  of  which  she  stood  in  need. 
With  that  Luned  started  to  go  away,  affecting 
great  anger.  Then  the  Countess  arose  and  fol- 
lowed her  to  the  door  of  the  chamber,  and  began 
coughing  loudly.  And  when  Luned  looked  back 
the  Countess  beckoned  to  her,  and  she  returned  to 
the  Countess. 

Then  said  the  Countess,  "In  truth  evil  is  thy  dis- 
position; and  yet  if  thou  knowest  what  is  to  my 
advantage,  declare  it  to  me." 

"That  will  I,"  answered  Luned.  And  then  she 
said,  "Thou  knowest  that  unless  thou  canst  defend 
the  fountain  thou  canst  not  maintain  thy  do- 
minions; and  no  one  can  defend  the  fountain  except 

'7 


Member  Stories 

a  knight  of  King  Arthur's  court.  Now  will  I  go 
thither,  and  ill  betide  me  if  I  return  not  with  a 
warrior  who  can  guard  the  fountain  as  well  as  or 
better  than  he  who  formerly  kept  it." 

"That  will  be  hard  to  perform,"  said  the  Coun- 
tess; "but  go,  however,  and  make  proof  of  what 
thou  hast  promised." 

So  Luned  went  forth  under  pretence  of  going  to 
King  Arthur's  court;  but  she  went  back  to  the 
chamber  where  she  had  left  Owain;  and  she  tarried 
there  as  long  as  it  would  have  taken  her  to  go  to 
Caerleon  and  return.  Then  she  went  again  to  the 
Countess,  who  was  much  rejoiced  to  see  her,  and 
inquired  what  news  she  brought  from  the  court. 

"I  bring  thee  the  best  news,"  said  Luned,  "for 
I  have  compassed  the  object  of  my  mission.  When 
wilt  thou  that  I  present  to  you  the  knight  who 
has  come  with  me  hither?" 

"Bring  him  here  to  visit  me  to-morrow  at  mid- 
day," said  the  Countess,  "and  I  will  have  the  people 
of  the  town  assembled  at  that  time." 

So  on  the  morrow  at  noon,  Luned  conducted 
Owain,  all  splendidly  arayed  in  satin  and  gold  with 
golden  clasps  upon  his  mantle,  to  the  chamber  of 
the  Countess.  Right  glad  was  the  Countess  of 
their  coming;  and  after  gazing  upon  the  knight 
for  awhile  she  said,  "Luned,  the  knight  has  not  the 
look  of  a  traveler." 

18 


Jtom  tbe  HDalrinogfon 

f'What  harm  is  there  in  that,  my  lady,"  replied 
Luned  boldly,  as  was  her  wont. 

"I  am  certain,"  said  the  Countess,  "that  this  is 
the  man  who  chased  the  soul  from  the  body  of  my 
lord." 

"So  much  the  better  for  thee,  lady,"  returned 
Luned;  "for  had  he  not  been  stronger  than  thy  lord 
he  could  not  have  slain  him.  There  is  no  remedy 
for  what  is  past,  be  it  as  it  may." 

"Go  back  to  thine  abode,"  said  the  Countess, 
"and  I  will  take  thy  counsel." 

The  next  day  the  Countess  assembled  all  the 
chief  men  among  her  subjects,  and  showed  them 
that  her  dominions  could  not  be  defended  except 
by  some  knight  of  great  prowess.  "Therefore,"  she 
said,  "if  you  can  choose  such  an  one  from  among 
yourselves,  let  him  take  me;  and  if  not,  give  your 
consent  that  I  should  take  a  husband  from  else- 
where to  defend  my  dominions." 

So  after  much  consultation  they  came  to  the  de- 
termination that  it  would  be  better  for  the  Coun- 
tess to  marry  some  one  from  elsewhere;  and  there- 
fore she  sent  for  the  bishops  and  archbishops  to 
celebrate  her  nuptials  with  Owain. 

Thus  Owain  became  the  husband  of  the  Coun- 
tess, and  all  the  men  of  the  earldom  did  him  hom- 
age. And  Owain  defended  the  fountain  with  lance 
and  sword  against  all  comers  for  the  space  of  three 
years,  and  no  man  in  the  whole  world  was  more  be- 
loved that  he  was  by  his  subjects. 

19 


CHAPTER  III 


AND  now  for  three  years  Owain  had  been 
missed  from  King  Arthur's  court  and  no 
one  knew  where  he  was.  And  so  it  befell 
that  as  Gawaine  went  forth  one  day  with  King 
Arthur,  he  saw  that  the  king  was  very  sad  and 
sorrowful.  Gawaine  was  much  grieved  to  see  the 
king  in  this  state,  and  he  questioned  him  saying, 
"Oh,  my  lord,  what  has  befallen  thee?" 

King  Arthur  said,  "I  am  grieved  concerning1 
Owain,  whom  I  have  lost  for  these  three  years;  and 
if  the  fourth  year  shall  pass  without  my  seeing  him 
I  shall  certainly  die.  Now  I  am  sure  that  it  is 
through  the  tale  that  Kynon  related  that  I  have 
lost  Owain." 

To  this  Gawaine  replied,  "There  is  no  need  for 
thee  to  summon  to  arms  thy  whole  dominion  on 
this  account,  for  thou  thyself  and  the  men  of  thy 
household  will  be  able  to  avenge  Owain,  if  he  be 
slain;  or  to  set  him  free  if  he  be  in  prison;  and,  if 
alive,  to  bring  him  back  to  thee." 

Then  King  Arthur  and  the  men  of  his  household 
prepared  to  go  and  seek  for  Owain;  and  Kynon, 

20 


fftom  tbe  nDabinogton 

the  son  of  Clydno,  acted  as  their  guide.  Soon  they 
came  to  the  castle  where  Kynon  had  been  before; 
and  there  they  saw  the  youths  shooting  in  the 
same  place,  and  the  yellow  man  standing  hard  by. 
When  the  yellow  man  saw  King  Arthur  and  his 
knights  he  invited  them  into  the  castle;  and  they  all 
entered  the  castle  together.  And  so  vast  was  the 
extent  of  the  castle  that  the  presence  of  King  Ar- 
thur and  his  retinue  was  scarcely  observed.  And 
the  twenty-four  damsels  rose  up  and  waited  upon 
them  and  their  retinue,  and  their  attendance  was 
the  best  that  had  ever  been  seen  by  them.  Even 
the  pages  who  had  charge  of  the  horses  were  no 
worse  served  that  night  than  King  Arthur  himself 
would  have  been  in  his  own  palace. 

The  next  morning  King  Arthur  and  his  knights 
set  out  thence  and  came  to  the  place  where  the 
black  man  was;  and  the  stature  of  the  black  man 
was  more  surprising  to  the  King  than  it  had  been 
represented  to  him.  And  going  forward  they  came 
to  the  top  of  the  wooded  steep,  and  traversed  the 
valley  till  they  reached  the  green  tree,  where  they 
saw  the  fountain  and  the  bowl  and  the  slab. 

Upon  this  Sir  Kay  came  to  King  Arthur  and 
spake  to  him,  saying,  "My  lord,  I  know  the  mean- 
ing of  all  this;  and  my  request  is  that  thou  wilt 
permit  me  to  throw  the  water  on  the  slab,  and  to 
receive  the  first  adventure  that  may  befall."  And 
King  Arthur  gave  him  leave. 

21 


Wlcmfcer  Stories 

Then  Sir  Kay  threw  a  bowlful  of  water  upon  the 
slab,  and  immediately  there  came  the  thunder,  and 
after  the  thunder  the  shower;  and  such  a  thunder 
storm  they  had  never  known  before,  and  many  of 
the  attendants  who  were  in  Arthur's  train  were 
killed  by  the  shower.  After  the  shower  had  ceased, 
the  sky  became  clear,  and  on  looking  at  the  tree, 
they  beheld  that  it  was  completely  leafless.  Then 
the  birds  descended  upon  the  tree;  and  the  song 
of  the  birds  was  far  sweeter  than  any  strain  they 
had  ever  heard  before.  And  anon  they  beheld  a 
knight  on  a  coal  black  horse,  clothed  in  black  satin, 
coming  rapidly  towards  them.  Then  Sir  Kay,  as 
he  had  desired,  rode  to  meet  him;  and  it  was  not 
long  before  Sir  Kay  was  overthrown.  After  which 
the  knight  withdrew,  and  King  Arthur  and  his 
host  encamped  for  the  night. 

When  they  arose  in  the  morning  they  perceived 
the  signal  of  combat  upon  the  lance  of  the  knight. 
And  Sir  Kay  came  to  King  Arthur  and  spoke  to 
him,  saying:  "My  lord,  though  I  was  overthrown 
yesterday,  if  it  seem  good  to  thee  I  would  gladly 
meet  the  knight  again  to-day." 

"You  may  do  so,"  said  King  Arthur,  "if  you  de- 
sire." 

Then  Sir  Kay  went  towards  the  knight,  and  the 
knight  struck  him  on  the  forehead  with  the  head 
of  his  lance,  to  that  it  broke  his  helmet  and  the 
headpiece,  and  pierced  the  skin  and  the  flesh  even 

22 


from  tbe  nDabinooton 

to  the  bone.  At  which  Sir  Kay  returned  to  his 
companions. 

Then,  one  by  one,  all  the  household  of  King  Ar- 
thur went  forth  to  combat  the  knight,  until  there 
was  not  one  that  was  not  overthrown  by  him,  ex- 
cept King  Arthur  and  Gawaine.  And  Arthur 
armed  himself  to  encounter  the  knight;  but  Ga- 
waine said,  "Oh,  my  lord,  permit  me  to  fight  with 
him  first."  And  Arthur  permitted  him. 

So  Gawaine  went  forth  to  meet  the  knight,  hav- 
ing over  himself  and  his  horse  a  satin  robe  of  honor, 
which  had  been  sent  him  by  the  daughter  of  the 
Earl  of  Rhangyw,  and  in  this  dress  he  was  not 
known  by  any  of  the  host.  The  two  knights 
charged  each  other,  and  fought  all  that  day  until 
evening;  and  neither  was  able  to  unhorse  the  other. 
And  so  it  was  the  next  day;  they  broke  their  lances 
in  the  shock,  but  neither  of  them  could  obtain  the 
mastery. 

And  the  third  day  they  fought  with  exceeding 
strong  lances;  and  they  were  filled  with  rage  and 
fought  furiously  even  until  noon.  And  at  last  they 
gave  each  other  such  a  shock  that  the  girths  of 
their  horses  were  broken,  so  that  they  fell  over 
their  horses'  cruppers  to  the  ground.  Rising  up 
speedily  they  drew  their  swords,  and  resumed  the 
combat  on  foot.  And  all  they  that  witnessed  the 
encounter  felt  assured  that  they  had  never  before 
seen  two  men  so  valiant  or  so  powerful.  And  so 

23 


Monger  Stories 

strong  were  their  strokes  that  had  it  been  midnight 
it  would  have  been  light  from  the  fire  that  flashed 
from  their  weapons. 

Now  as  they  fought  the  knight  gave  Gawaine 
a  blow  that  turned  his  helmet  from  off  his  face,  so 
that  the  knight  saw  that  it  was  Gawaine.  Then 
Owain  said,  for  the  knight  was  Sir  Owain : 

"My  lord,  Gawaine,  I  did  not  know  thee  for  my 
cousin,  owing  to  the  robe  of  honor  that  enveloped 
thee;  take  my  sword  and  my  arms." 

But  Gawaine  replied,  "Thou  art  the  victor,  brave 
Owain;  take  thou  my  sword." 

With  that  King  Arthur  saw  that  they  were  con- 
versing, and  advanced  toward  them.  And  Ga- 
waine said, 

"My  lord,  King  Arthur,  here  is  Owain  who  has 
vanquished  me  and  will  not  take  my  arms." 

To  this  Owain  replied,  "My  lord,  it  is  he  that 
hath  vanquished  me,  and  he  will  not  take  my 
sword." 

"Give  me  your  swords,"  said  King  Arthur,  "and 
then  neither  of  you  has  vanquished  the  other." 

At  this  Owain  put  his  arms  around  King  Ar- 
thur's neck,  and  they  embraced;  and  all  the  host 
hurried  forward  to  see  Owain,  and  to  embrace  him. 
And  there  was  nigh  being  a  loss  of  life,  so  great 
was  the  press. 

On  the  morrow  King  Arthur  made  ready  to  de- 
part; but  Owain  said,  "My  lord,  this  is  not  well  for 

24 


Utom  tbe 

thee,  for  I  have  been  absent  from  thee  these  three 
years,  and  during  all  that  time  I  have  been  pre- 
paring a  banquet  for  thee,  knowing  that  thou 
wouldst  come  to  seek  me.  Tarry  with  me  there- 
fore until  both  you  and  your  attendants  have  re- 
covered from  the  journey,  and  have  been 
anointed." 

So  they  all  proceeded  to  the  castle  of  the  Coun- 
tess of  the  Fountain,  and  the  banquet  that  had 
been  three  years  preparing  was  consumed  in  three 
months.  Never  had  there  been  a  more  delicious  or 
more  agreeable  banquet.  And  when  King  Arthur 
was  ready  to  depart,  he  sent  an  embassy  to  the 
Countess  to  beseech  her  to  permit  Owain  to  go 
with  him,  for  the  space  of  three  months,  that  he 
might  show  him  to  the  nobles  and  fair  dames  of 
the  Island  of  Britain.  And  the  Countess  gave  her 
consent,  though  it  was  very  painful  to  her.  So 
Owain  came  to  the  Island  of  Britain.  And  when 
he  was  once  more  with  his  kindred  and  friends,  he 
remained  with  them  three  years  instead  of  three 
months. 

Now  one  day  as  Owain  sat  at  meat,  in  the  palace 
of  the  king  at  Caerleon,  there  came  a  damsel  rid- 
ing into  the  hall  upon  a  bay  horse  with  a  curling 
mane,  and  covered  with  foam;  and  the  bridle  and 
as  much  as  was  seen  of  the  saddle  was  of  gold. 
The  damsel  was  richly  arrayed  in  a  robe  of  yellow 
satin.  As  they  all  looked  upon  her  surprised,  she 

25 


TOonfcer  Stories 

came  up  to  Owain,  and  took  the  ring  from  off  his 
hand,  saying, 

"Thus  shall  be  treated  the  deceiver,  the  traitor, 
the  faithless,  the  disgraced,  and  the  beardless." 
Then  she  turned  her  horse's  head  and  departed. 

At  this  Owain  suddenly  remembered  the  Coun- 
tess and  how  he  had  deserted  her;  and  his  mind 
was  so  filled  with  shame  and  sorrow  that  he  well 
nigh  lost  his  reason.  The  next  day  he  did  not  go 
to  court,  nor  did  he  return  to  the  Countess,  but 
wandered  into  wild  and  desert  places,  and  there  re- 
mained until  his  apparel  was  worn  out,  and  his 
hair  and  beard  grew  long,  and  his  body  was  sore 
wasted.  And  he  went  about  with  the  wild  beasts 
and  fed  them  until  they  learned  to  know  him  and 
became  familiar  with  him.  But  at  length  he  be- 
came so  weak  that  he  could  no  longer  bear  their 
company.  Then  he  descended  from  the  mountains 
to  the  valley  and  came  to  a  park  that  was  the  fair- 
est in  the  world,  and  belonged  to  the  Countess 
whom  he  had  deserted.  And  he  was  so  weak  that 
he  lay  down  by  a  small  lake  and  soon  became  in- 
sensible. 

One  day  the  Countess  came  forth  with  her 
maidens  to  walk  by  the  lake  that  was  in  the  middle 
of  the  park.  As  they  came  near  the  lake  they  saw 
the  form  of  a  man  lying  as  if  dead;  and  they  were 
terrified.  At  length  they  went  near  him  and 
touched  him,  and  saw  there  was  life  in  him,  though 

26 


Ifrom  tfoe  flDabinogion 

he  was  unconscious.  The  Countess  returned  to  the 
castle  and  took  a  flask  full  of  precious  ointment, 
and  gave  it  to  one  of  her  handmaidens,  saying,  "Go 
with  this,  and  take  with  thee  yonder  horse  and 
clothing,  and  place  them  near  the  man  we  saw  just 
now;  and  anoint  him  with  this  balsam  near  his 
heart;  and  if  there  is  life  in  him  he  will  revive.  Then 
watch  what  he  will  do." 

The  maiden  obeyed  and  went  and  poured  the 
balsam  upon  Owain,  and  left  the  horse  and  the  gar- 
ments hard  by,  and  then  went  a  little  way  off,  and 
hid  herself  to  watch  him.  In  a  short  time  she  saw 
him  begin  to  move;  and  he  rose  up  and  looked  at 
his  person,  and  became  ashamed  at  the  unseemli- 
ness of  his  appearance.  So  he  clothed  himself  with 
the  garments  that  were  near  him,  and  with  diffi- 
culty mounted  the  horse. 

Then  the  damsel  came  forward  and  saluted  him, 
and  he  asked  her,  "What  land  is  this?" 

"Truly,"  she  said,  "it  belongs  to  a  widowed 
Countess.  At  the  death  of  her  husband  she  had 
two  earldoms,  but  now  this  park  and  castle  are  all 
that  are  left  to  her,  the  rest  having  been  taken 
away  from  her  by  a  young  earl,  her  neighbor,  be- 
cause she  refused  to  become  his  wife." 

"That  is  a  pity,"  said  Owain. 

Then  the  maiden  led  him  to  the  castle,  and  took 
him  to  a  pleasant  chamber,  and  kindled  a  fire  and 

27 


TWlon&er  Storied 

left  him.  The  maiden  then  came  to  the  Countess, 
and  gave  the  flask  into  her  hand. 

"Ha,  maiden,"  said  the  Countess,  "where  is  all 
the  balsam?" 

"Have  I  not  used  it  all  ?"  answered  the  maiden. 

"Oh,  maiden !"  said  the  Countess,  "I  cannot  eas- 
ily forgive  thee  this.  It  is  sad  for  me  to  have 
wasted  full  seven  pounds  of  precious  ointment 
upon  a  stranger  whom  I  know  not.  However, 
maiden,  wait  thou  upon  him  until  he  is  quite  recov- 
ered." 

The  maiden  did  as  she  was  bidden  and  furnished 
him  with  meat  and  drink  and  fire  and  lodging  and 
medicine  until  he  was  well  again.  And  in  three 
months  he  was  restored  to  his  former  guise,  and 
became  even  more  comely  than  he  had  ever  been 
before. 

One  day  Owain  heard  a  great  tumult  and  a 
sound  of  arms  in  the  castle,  and  he  inquired  of  the 
maiden  the  cause  thereof.  "The  Earl,"  said  she, 
"whom  I  mentioned  to  thee,  has  come  before  the 
castle  with  a  numerous  army,  to  subdue  the  Coun- 
tess." 

Hearing  this,  Owain  inquired  of  her  whether  the 
Countess  had  a  horse  and  arms  in  her  possession. 
"She  has  the  best  in  the  world,"  said  the  maiden. 

"Wilt  thou  go  and  request  of  her  the  loan  of  a 
horse  and  arms  for  me,"  said  Owain,  "that  I  may 
go  and  look  at  this  army?" 

28 


fftom  tbe  flDaWnooion 

"I  will,"  replied  the  maiden,  "willingly." 

So  she  came  to  the  Countess  and  told  her  what 
Owain  had  said.  And  the  Countess  laughed. 
"Truly,"  she  said,  "I  will  give  him  a  horse  and 
arms  forever — such  a  horse  and  such  arms  as  he 
never  had  before.  And  I  am  glad  that  they  should 
be  taken  by  him  to-day,  lest  my  enemies  should 
have  them  against  my  will  to-morrow.  Yet  I  know 
not  what  he  will  do  with  them." 

Then  the  Countess  bade  them  bring  out  a  beau- 
tiful black  steed  upon  which  was  a  beechen  saddle, 
and  a  suit  of  armor  for  man  and  horse.  Then 
Owain  armed  himself  and  mounted  the  horse,  and 
went  forth  attended  by  two  pages  completely 
equipped  with  horses  and  arms.  When  he  came 
near  to  the  earl's  army  he  could  see  neither  its  ex- 
tent nor  its  extremity,  so  large  it  was. 

Then  said  Owain  to  the  pages,  "In  which  troop 
is  the  earl?" 

"In  yonder  troop,"  they  said,  "in  which  are  four 
yellow  standards;  two  of  them  are  before  and  two 
of  them  are  behind  him." 

"Now,"  said  Owain,  "do  you  return,  and  await 
me  near  the  portal  of  the  castle." 

So  they  returned  and  Owain  pressed  forward 
until  he  met  the  earl.  And  Owain  fell  upon  him, 
and  dragged  him  out  of  the  saddle,  and  carried  him 
off,  in  spite  of  all  the  efforts  of  his  knights,  to  the 
castle.  And  Owain  took  him  to  the  Countess,  and 

29 


TOonfcer  5torie0 

threw  him  down  before  her  saying,  "Behold,  here 
is  a  gift  of  requital  for  thy  precious  balsam." 

Finding  himself  thus  a  prisoner  in  the  castle,  the 
earl,  as  a  ransom  for  his  life,  restored  to  the  Coun- 
tess the  two  earldoms  that  he  had  taken  from  her; 
and  for  his  freedom  he  gave  her  half  of  his  own  do- 
minions, and  all  his  gold  and  his  silver  and  his 
jewels,  besides  hostages. 

And  after  this  Owain  made  ready  to  take  his 
departure;  and  though  the  Countess  and  all  her 
subjects  besought  him  to  remain,  he  chose  rather 
to  wander  through  distant  lands  and  deserts. 


CHAPTER  IV 

OWAIN  AGAIN  FINDS  THE  COUNTESS 

AS  Owain  rode  he  heard  a  loud  yelling  in  a 
wood,  which  was  repeated  a  second  and 
a  third  time.  Going  towards  the  spot 
whence  the  sound  proceeded  he  came  to  a  huge 
craggy  mound  in  the  middle  of  the  wood,  on  the 
side  of  which  was  a  gray  rock.  There  was  a  deep 
cleft  in  the  rock,  and  a  serpent  lay  within  the  cleft. 
And  near  the  rock  stood  a  black  lion;  and  every 
time  the  lion  sought  to  go  thence  the  serpent 
darted  towards  him  to  attack  him. 

As  Owain  looked  upon  the  scene,  he  unsheathed 
his  sword  and  drew  near  the  rock;  and,  as  the  ser- 
pent sprang  out  to  attack  him,  he  struck  it  with 
his  sword  and  cut  it  in  two.  Then  he  dried  his 
sword  and  went  on  his  way  as  before.  And,  be- 
hold, the  lion  followed  him  and  played  about  him 
as  though  it  had  been  a  greyhound  that  he  had 
reared. 

Thus  they  journeyed  on  together  until  evening. 
And  when  it  was  time  for  Owain  to  take  his  repast, 
he  dismounted  and  turned  his  horse  loose  to  graze 
on  a  flat  and  wooded  meadow.  And  he  kindled  a 

31 


Monger  Stories 

fire,  and  the  lion  brought  him  fuel  enough  to  last 
for  three  nights.  Then  the  lion  disappeared;  but 
presently  returned  with  a  large  roebuck  which  he 
threw  down  before  Owain.  Being  hungry  Owain 
roasted  some  of  the  flesh  of  the  roebuck  for  him- 
self, and  the  rest  of  it  he  gave  to  the  lion. 

While  he  was  eating,  he  heard  a  deep  sigh  that 
seemed  to  come  from  within  a  rock  near  at  hand. 
Going  near  the  rock  and  seeing  no  one  he  called 
out  to  know  who  it  was  that  groaned  so  piteously. 
A  voice  answered, 

"I  am  Luned,  the  handmaiden  of  the  Countess 
of  the  Fountain.  I  am  imprisoned  here  on  ac- 
count of  the  knight  that  came  from  King  Arthur's 
court  and  married  the  Countess.  He  was  the 
friend  I  loved  most  in  the  world;  and  after  he  had 
departed,  two  of  the  knights  of  the  court  traduced 
him,  and  called  him  a  deceiver.  And  because  I 
said  that  I  would  vouch  for  him  that  he  would  come 
before  long  and  maintain  his  cause  against  both  of 
them,  they  imprisoned  me  in  this  cave,  and  said 
that  I  should  be  put  to  death,  unless  he  came  to 
deliver  me  by  a  certain  day.  That  day  is  no  fur- 
ther off  than  to-morrow;  and  I  have  no  one  to  send 
to  seek  him  for  me.  His  name  is  Owain,  the  son 
of  Urien." 

"Art  thou  certain  that  if  the  knight  knew  all 
this,  he  would  come  to  thy  rescue?"  asked  Owain. 

"I  am  most  certain  of  it,"  she  replied. 

32 


from  tbe  flDabinogion 

Then  Owain  divided  the  supper  he  was  eating 
into  two  parts,  one  for  himself  and  the  other  for 
the  maiden,  and  then  laid  himself  down  to  sleep; 
and  never  did  sentinel  keep  stricter  watch  over  his 
lord  than  did  the  lion  that  night  over  Owain. 

In  the  morning  Owain  asked  the  damsel  if  there 
were  any  places  near  where  he  could  get  lodging; 
so  she  directed  hixn  to  an  earl's  castle.  "Cross 
over  yonder  and  go  along  the  river  side,  and  in  a 
short  time  thou  wilt  see  a  great  castle,  with  many 
towers.  The  earl  who  owns  the  castle  is  the  most 
hospitable  man  in  the  world.  There  thou  mayst 
spend  the  night." 

So  Owain  mounted  his  horse  and  passed  across 
by  the  ford,  and  soon  came  in  sight  of  the  castle. 
And  he  entered  it  and  was  well  received  by  the  earl 
and  his  people.  The  lion  went  with  him  and  lay 
down  in  the  horse's  manger,  so  that  none  of  the 
people  of  the  castle  dared  to  approach  him. 

Soon  they  went  to  meat;  and  the  earl  sat  upon 
one  side  of  Owain,  and  on  the  other  side  sat  his 
only  daughter.  And  Owain  thought  he  had  never 
seen  any  maiden  more  lovely  than  she.  Then  the 
lion  came  and  placed  himself  between  Owain's 
feet,  and  he  fed  him  with  every  kind  of  food  that 
he  took  himself.  And  as  he  conversed  with  the 
earl  he  thought  he  never  saw  anything  equal  to 
the  sadness  of  the  people. 

In  the  middle  of  the  repast  the  earl  began  to  bid 

33 


TOonfcer  Stories 

Owain  welcome.  Then  said  Owain,  "Behold,  it  is 
time  for  thee  to  be  cheerful." 

"Heaven  knows,"  said  the  earl,  "that  it  is  not 
thy  coming  that  makes  us  sorrowful;  but  we  have 
cause  enough  for  sadness  and  care." 

"What  is  the  cause  of  this  sadness?"  said  Owain. 

"1  have  two  sons,"  said  the  earl,  "and  yesterday 
they  went  to  the  mountains  to  hunt.  Now  there 
is  on  the  mountain  a  monster  who  kills  men  and 
devours  them;  and  he  seized  my  sons.  And  to- 
morrow is  the  time  he  has  fixed  to  be  here  and  he 
threatens  that  he  will  slay  my  sons  before  my  eyes 
unless  I  will  deliver  into  his  hands  my  daughter." 

"Truly,"  said  Owain,  "that  is  very  sad.  But 
what  wilt  thou  do?" 

"Heaven  knows,"  said  the  earl,  "it  will  be  bet- 
ter that  my  sons  should  be  slain  against  my  will 
than  that  I  should  give  up  my  daughter  to  him  to 
ill-treat  and  destroy." 

After  which  they  talked  about  many  other  things 
until  it  was  time  to  retire;  and  Owain  remained  in 
the  castle  over  night.  As  he  thought  upon  what 
the  earl  had  told  him  he  resolved  that  he  would 
meet  the  giant  and  deliver  the  two  youths  and  thus 
save  the  maiden  from  her  ill  fate. 

Early  the  next  morning  there  was  a  great  clamor, 
caused  by  the  coming  of  the  giant  with  the  two 
youths.  Awakened  by  the  noise,  Owain  arose  and 
after  the  morning  meal,  put  on  his  armor,  and 

34 


ffrom  the 

went  forth  to  encounter  the  giant;  and  his  lion 
went  with  him.  When  the  giant  saw  that  Owain 
was  armed,  he  rushed  fiercely  upon  him;  upon 
which  the  lion  sprang  upon  the  giant  and  fought 
against  him  even  more  strongly  than  Owain  did. 

"Truly,"  said  the  giant,  "I  could  deal  easily  with 
thee  were  it  not  for  this  lion  that  is  with  thee." 

Upon  that  Owain  took  the  lion  back  to  the  cas- 
tle, and  shut  the  gate  upon  him,  and  then  returned 
to  fight  the  giant  as  before.  The  lion  roared  furi- 
ously, and  climbed  up  till  he  got  to  the  top  of  the 
castle,  and  then  sprang  down  from  the  wall,  and 
rushed  again  upon  the  giant,  giving  him  a  stroke 
with  his  paw  that  tore  him  from  the  shoulder  to 
the  hip,  so  that  he  fell  down  dead.  Then  Owain 
took  the  two  youths  and  restored  them  to  their 
father. 

The  earl,  full  of  gratitude  for  the  rescue  of  his 
sons,  besought  Owain  to  remain  with  him,  but  he 
would  not  wait;  and  set  forth  immediately  to  the 
place  where  Luned  was  imprisoned  in  the  stone 
vault.  When  he  came  there  he  found  a  great  fire 
kindled;  and  two  youths  with  curly  locks  were 
leading  the  maiden  to  cast  her  into  the  fire.  Owain 
asked  them  what  charge  they  had  against  her.  And 
they  told  him  of  the  compact  that  was  between 
them,  as  the  maiden  had  done  the  night  before. 

"Owain,"  they  said,  "has  failed  her,  and  now  we 
are  taking  her  to  be  burnt." 

35 


TJdonfcer  Stories 

"Truly,"  said  Owain,  "he  is  a  good  knight,  and 
if  he  knew  that  the  maiden  was  in  such  peril,  I 
marvel  that  he  came  not  to  her  rescue.  But  if  you 
will  accept  me  in  his  stead,  I  will  do  battle  with 
you." 

"That  we  will,"  replied  the  youth,  "most  will- 
ingly, for  thou  seemest  to  be  a  goodly  knight." 

Then  they  rushed  upon  Owain,  and  he  was  hard 
beset  by  them.  And  with  that  the  lion  came  to 
Owain's  assistance,  and  they  two  got  the  better  of 
the  young  men.  When  they  saw  they  were  being 
worsted  in  the  fight,  they  said  to  him,  "Chieftain, 
it  was  not  agreed  that  we  should  fight  save  with 
thyself  alone,  and  it  is  harder  for  us  to  contend 
with  yonder  animal  than  with  thee." 

At  this  Owain  took  the  lion  and  put  him  in  the 
place  where  Luned  had  been  imprisoned,  and 
blocked  up  the  door  with  stones;  and  then  went 
to  fight  with  the  young  men  as  before.  But  Owain 
had  not  his  usual  strength,  and  the  young  men 
pressed  hard  upon  him  and  would  have  slain  him. 
As  they  thus  fought  the  lion  roared  incessantly  at 
seeing  Owain  in  trouble,  and  he  pressed  against 
the  wall  until  he  found  a  way  out,  and  rushed  upon 
the  young  men  and  instantly  slew  them.  So  Luned 
was  saved  from  being  burned  to  death. 

Then  Owain  took  Luned  from  the  cave  and  re- 
turned with  her  to  the  castle  of  the  Lady  of  the 
Fountain.  And  when  the  lady  saw  him  she  recog- 

36 


from  tbe  fiDalnnogion 

nized  him  as  her  lord,  and  she  rushed  into  his  arms, 
and  each  embraced  the  other,  so  glad  were  they  to 
meet  again.  Owain  told  her  of  all  his  adventures 
and  begged  her  to  forgive  him  for  his  long  ab- 
sence, and  this  she  readily  consented  to  do.  And 
when  Owain  again  went  thence  to  visit  King  Ar- 
thur's court,  he  took  the  Countess  with  him,  and 
there  they  lived  for  many  years  in  great  happiness 
and  renown. 

And  this  is  the  tale  of  the  Lady  of  the  Fountain. 

This  Is  a  tale  of  knightly  deeds  very  similar  to  those 
of  the  Knights  of  King  Arthur,  though  a  little  more  ex- 
travagant than  any  which  Malory  relates.  Several  of  the 
characters  are  the  same  as  in  Malory's  book,  with  the 
Bame  personal  characteristics,  all  indicating  a  common 
origin  of  these  stories  with  the  Arthurian  tales. 

Lady  Guest  says  that  "Amongst  all  the  characters  of 
ancient  British  history,  none  is  more  interesting,  or  oc- 
cupies a  more  conspicuous  place  than  (Owain)  the  hero 
of  this  tale."  She  also  says  that  "The  story  of  Owain 
and  the  Lady  of  the  Fountain  was  very  popular  in  the 
days  of  Chivalry,  and  we  meet  it  in  many  European 
languages  besides  the  Welsh." 


37 


Cl) 

9)oto  i&ittoci) 

LONG  time  ago  in  Wales  there  was  a 
youth  named  Kilwch.  His  mother  had 
died  when  he  was  a  boy,  and  in  time  his 
father  married  again,  and  his  step-mother  having 
children  of  her  own  had  not  given  him  the  love 
of  a  mother.  As  he  grew  older  he  was  very  hand- 
some and  his  step-mother  was  jealous  of  his  beauty 
and  longed  to  get  rid  of  him.  One  day  she  went 
to  him  and  said,  "It  is  time  for  thee  to  be  thinking 
about  a  wife,  and  it  has  been  revealed  to  me  that 
thou  never  wilt  be  suited  with  a  wife  until  thou 
obtain  Olwen,  the  daughter  of  Yspaddaden  Pen- 
kawr." 

At  this  the  youth  blushed,  for  he  had  never 
thought  about  having  a  wife.  But  as  he  dwelt  upon 
the  matter  his  heart  grew  warm  and  the  love  of  the 
maiden  diffused  itself  through  all  his  frame,  al- 
though he  had  never  seen  her  nor  heard  of  her  be- 
fore. His  father  noticing  the  change  in  his  spirits, 
said,  "What  has  come  over  thee,  my  son,  and  what 
is  it  that  aileth  thee?" 

38 


from  tbe  flDabinogion 

"My  step-mother,"  he  replied,  "has  declared  to 
me  that  it  is  time  for  me  to  have  a  wife,  and  that  I 
shall  never  have  one  until  I  obtain  Olwen,  the 
daughter  of  Yspaddaden  Penkawr." 

"That  will  be  easy  for  thee,"  answered  his  father. 
"King  Arthur  is  thy  cousin  and  will  aid  thee  in  the 
matter;  go,  therefore,  unto  Arthur  and  have  him 
cut  thy  hair  and  then  ask  this  of  him  as  a  boon." 

So  the  youth  took  a  steed,  firm  of  limb,  with  head 
of  dappled  gray  and  shell  formed  hoofs,  having  a 
bridle  of  linked  gold  on  his  head  and  a  saddle  of 
costly  gold  upon  his  back.  In  his  hand  he  bore  two 
spears  of  silver,  sharp,  well-tempered  and  headed 
with  steel,  and  of  an  edge  to  wound  even  the  wind 
and  cause  the  blood  to  flow  as  soft  as  the  fall  of 
the  dew-drops  from  the  blades  of  reed-grass  upon 
the  earth  when  the  dew  of  June  is  at  the  heaviest. 
A  gold-hilted  sword  was  upon  his  thigh,  the  blade 
of  which  was  of  gold,  bearing  a  cross  of  inlaid  gold 
of  the  hue  of  the  lightning  of  heaven. 

As  he  rode  there  went  before  him  two  brindled 
white-breasted  greyhounds,  having  strong  collars 
of  rubies  about  their  necks  reaching  from  the 
shoulder  to  the  ear.  And  the  one  that  was  on  the 
left  side  kept  bounding  across  to  the  right  side, 
and  the  one  one  the  right  side  to  the  left,  sporting 
thus  around  him  like  two  sea  swallows.  His  courser 
was  so  proud  of  step  that  he  cast  up  four  sods  with 
his  four  hoofs,  which  like  four  swallows  in  the  air 

39 


TOonfcer  Stories 

flew  about  his  head.  About  him  was  a  four-cor- 
nered cloth  of  purple  with  an  apple  of  gold  at  each 
corner,  and  every  one  of  the  apples  was  of  the  value 
of  an  hundred  kine.  And  there  was  precious  gold 
of  the  value  of  three  hundred  kine  upon  his  shoes, 
and  upon  his  stirrups  and  from  his  knee  to  the  tip 
of  his  toe.  And  so  light  at  times  was  his  courser's 
tread  that  the  blades  of  grass  bent  not  beneath 
him,  as  he  journeyed  towards  the  gate  of  King  Ar- 
thur's palace. 

When  the  youth  reached  King  Arthur's  palace 
he  inquired  at  the  gate  of  the  palace  of  a  man  who 
stood  there,  saying,  "Is  there  a  porter  here?" 

"There  is,"  said  the  man;  "and  if  thou  holdest 
not  thy  peace,  small  will  be  thy  welcome.  I  am 
Arthur's  porter  every  first  day  of  January;  and 
during  every  other  day  of  the  year  the  office  is 
filled  by  others,  one  of  whom  goes  upon  his  head 
to  save  his  feet,  like  a  rolling  stone  upon  the  floor 
of  the  court. 

"Open  the  portal,  then,  if  thou  art  the  porter," 
said  Kilwch. 

"I  will  not  open  it,"  replied  the  porter. 

"Wherefore  wilt  thou  not?"  inquired  the  youth. 

"The  knife  is  in  the  meat,  and  the  drink  is  in 
the  horn,  and  there  is  revelry  in  Arthur's  hall;  and 
none  may  enter  therein,  but  the  son  of  a  king  of  a 
privileged  country,  or  a  craftsman  bringing  his 
craft." 

To  this  the  youth  replied,  "That  will  I  not  do 
40 


jfrom  tbe  flDaWnogion 

for  I  am  no  craftsman.  If  thou  openest  the  gate, 
it  is  well,  but  if  thou  dost  not  open  it,  I  will  bring 
disgrace  upon  thy  lord  and  evil  report  upon  thee. 
And  I  will  set  up  three  shouts  at  this  very  gate, 
than  which  none  were  ever  more  deadly." 

"What  clamor  soever  thou  mayest  make,"  said 
the  porter,  "against  the  laws  of  King  Arthur's  pal- 
ace, thou  shalt  not  enter  therein,  until  I  first  go 
and  speak  with  him." 

Then  the  porter  went  into  the  hall;  and  King 
Arthur  said  to  him,  "Hast  thou  any  news  from  the 
gate?" 

"Half  of  my  life  is  past,  and  I  have  seen  many 
noble  sovereigns  and  many  handsome  men;  but 
never  did  I  behold  a  man  of  equal  grace  and  dig- 
nity to  him  who  is  now  at  the  portal  of  the  gate." 

Then  said  King  Arthur,  "If  thou  didst  enter  here 
walking,  return  thou  running,  and  let  him  enter. 
It  is  unbecoming  to  keep  such  a  man  as  thou  sayest 
he  is  waiting  at  the  gate  in  the  wind  and  the  rain." 

Then  up  spake  Kay,  the  King's  chief  counsellor, 
saying,  "By  the  hand  of  my  friend,  if  thou  wouldst 
follow  my  counsel,  thou  wouldst  not  break  through 
the  laws  of  thy  court  because  of  him." 

"Not  so,  blessed  Kay,"  said  King  Arthur.  "It 
is  an  honor  to  us  to  be  resorted  to;  and  the  greater 
our  courtesy  the  greater  will  be  our  renown,  and 
our  fame,  and  our  glory." 

Then  the  porter  returned  to  the  gate,  and  opened 
it,  and  the  youth  rode  through  with  his  horse,  and 

41 


TOonfcer  Stories 

even  into  the  hall  where  Arthur  was.  Stopping  be- 
fore the  King  he  said  with  great  courtesy,  "Greet- 
ing be  unto  thee,  sovereign  ruler  of  this  island;  and 
be  this  greeting  no  less  unto  the  lowest  than  unto 
the  highest." 

"Greeting  unto  thee,  also,"  said  King  Arthur. 
"Sit  thou  between  two  of  my  warriors;  and  thou 
shalt  have  minstrels  before  thee,  and  thou  shalt 
enjoy  the  privilege  of  a  king  born  to  a  throne,  as 
long  as  thou  remainest  here." 

"I  came  not  here  to  consume  meat  and  drink," 
said  the  youth,  "but,  if  I  obtain  the  boon  that  I 
seek,  I  will  requite  it  to  thee  and  extol  thee.  And 
if  I  have  it  not,  I  will  bear  forth  thy  dispraise  to  the 
four  quarters  of  the  world,  even  as  far  as  thy  re- 
nown has  extended." 

At  this  King  Arthur  said,  "Since  thou  wilt  not 
remain  here,  chieftain,  thou  shalt  receive  the  boon 
whatsoever  thy  tongue  may  name;  save  only  my 
ship,  or  my  mantle,  or  my  sword,  or  my  lance,  or 
my  shield,  or  my  dagger,  or  my  wife.  Besides 
these,  name  what  thou  wilt." 

"I  would,"  the  youth  replied,  "that  first  thou 
bless  my  hair." 

"That  will  I  gladly  do,"  said  King  Arthur. 

So  Arthur  took  a  golden  comb  and  scissors 
whose  loops  were  made  of  silver,  and  he  combed 
and  cut  the  youth's  hair.  Then  King  Arthur  in- 
quired of  him  who  he  was.  "For,"  he  said,  "my 
heart  warms  unto  thee,  and  I  know  that  thou  art 

42 


from  tbe  flDabinogion 

come  of  my  blood.  Tell  me,  therefore,  who  thou 
art." 

"I  will  tell  thee,"  said  the  youth,  "I  am  Kilwch, 
the  son  of  Kilydd,  the  son  of  Prince  Kelyddon  and 
Goleuddydd,  the  daughter  of  Prince  Anlawdd." 

"That  is  true,"  said  King  Arthur.  "Thou  art 
my  cousin  and  my  heart  goes  out  to  thee  in  friend- 
ship. Whatsoever  boon  thou  mayst  ask,  thou  shalt 
receive,  be  it  what  it  may  that  thy  tongue  shall 
name." 

"I  crave  of  thee,  then,"  the  youth  replied,  "that 
thou  obtain  for  me  Olwen,  the  daughter  of  Pen- 
kawr  for  my  wife,  and  this  boon  I  would  seek  at 
the  hands  of  thy  warriors." 

Then  said  King  Arthur,  "O  chieftain!  I  have 
never  heard  of  the  maiden  of  whom  thou  speakest, 
nor  of  her  kindred;  but  I  will  gladly  send  mes- 
sengers in  search  of  her.  Give  me  time  to  seek 
her." 

"I  will  willingly  grant  thee  from  this  night  to 
that  of  the  end  of  the  year  for  you  to  do  so,"  the 
youth  replied. 

Then  King  Arthur  sent  messengers  to  every 
land  within  his  dominions  to  seek  for  the  maiden; 
and  at  the  end  of  the  year  the  messengers  returned 
without  having  gained  any  knowledge  or  intelli- 
gence concerning  Olwen,  more  than  on  the  first 
day. 

When  they  told  Kilwch  of  this  he  said,  "Every 

43 


TOonfcer  Storied 

one  has  received  his  boon,  and  yet  I  lack  mine.    I 
will  depart  and  bear  away  thy  honor  with  me !" 

At  this  Kay  spoke  up  quickly,  saying,  "Rash 
chieftain!  dost  thou  reproach  King  Arthur?  Go 
with  us,  and  we  shall  not  part  until  thou  dost  con- 
fess that  the  maiden  exists  not  in  the  world,  or  un- 
til we  obtain  her."  Thereupon  Kay  rose  up  and 
made  ready  to  go  in  search  of  the  maiden  Olwen. 
Now  Kay  was  one  of  the  most  wonderful  war- 
riors in  the  world.  He  had  this  peculiarity,  that 
his  breath  would  last  nine  days  and  nine  nights  un- 
der water,  and  he  could  exist  nine  days  and  nine 
nights  without  sleep  or  food.  Also  a  wound  from 
Kay's  sword  no  physician  could  heal,  so  that  every 
one  who  was  wounded  by  it  died.  When  it  pleased 
him  he  could  render  himself  as  tall  as  the  highest 
tree  in  the  forest.  And  so  great  was  the  heat  of 
his  body  that  when  it  rained  the  hardest,  whatever 
he  carried  remained  dry  for  a  hand  breath  above 
and  a  hand  breath  below  his  hand;  and  when  his 
companions  were  coldest  this  heat  was  to  them  as 
fuel  with  which  to  light  their  fire. 

'  As  they  thus  made  ready  for  their  journey  King 
Arthur  called  Bedwyr,  who  never  shrank  from  any 
enterprise  upon  which  Kay  was  bound.  None  was 
equal  to  him  in  swiftness  throughout  the  island,  ex- 
cept King  Arthur  himself  and  a  knight  called 
Drych  Ail  Kibddar.  And  although  he  had  but  a 
single  hand,  three  warriors  could  not  shed  blood 
faster  on  the  field  of  battle  than  he.  And  besides 

44 


JFvom  tbe  ffcabinocjicm 

this,  his  lance  would  produce  a  wound  equal  to 
those  of  nine  opposing  lances. 

King  Arthur  also  called  to  Kynddelig,  the  guide, 
saying,  "Go  thou  upon  this  expedition  with  the 
chieftain."  For  as  good  a  guide  was  he  in  a  land 
which  he  had  never  seen  as  he  was  in  his  own. 

Besides  him  he  called  two  other  guides, — the 
one,  a  linguist,  who  knew  all  tongues  that  were 
spoken,  the  other  a  magician  who  could  cast  a 
charm  and  an  illusion  over  people  so  that  none 
might  see  them,  whilst  they  could  see  every  one. 

When  all  was  ready  they  started  and  traveled 
until  they  came  to  a  vast,  open  plain,  and  in  this 
plain  they  saw  a  great  castle,  which  seemed  to 
them  the  fairest  of  all  the  castles  in  the  world. 
They  journeyed  that  day  until  the  evening;  and 
when  they  thought  they  were  nigh  to  the  castle, 
they  were  seemingly  no  nearer  to  it  than  they  had 
been  in  the  morning.  And  the  second  and  the 
third  day  they  journeyed,  and  at  length  they  found 
themselves  drawing  near  to  the  castle. 

When  they  came  to  the  castle,  they  beheld  a 
vast  flock  of  sheep,  which  so  far  as  they  could  see 
was  boundless  and  without  end.  And  upon  the 
top  of  a  high  mound  there  was  an  herdsman  keep- 
ing the  sheep.  He  was  clothed  with  a  rug  made 
of  skins  and  by  his  side  was  a  shaggy  mastiff,  larger 
than  a  steed  nine  winters  old.  So  faithful  was  this 
mastiff  that  never  had  the  man  lost  a  lamb  from 
his  flock,  much  less  a  large  sheep.  He  was  a 

45 


Monger  Stories 

wicked  man,  however,  and  let  no  occasion  pass 
without  doing  some  hurt  and  harm.  All  the  dead 
trees  and  bushes  in  the  plain  he  burnt  with  his 
breath  down  to  the  very  ground. 

As  they  stood  looking  at  the  man  Kay  said  to 
one  of  the  guides,  "Go  thou  and  salute  yonder 
man." 

But  the  guide  replied,  "Kay,  I  engaged  to  go  no 
further  than  thou  thyself." 

"Let  us  then  all  go  together,"  said  Kay. 

"Fear  not,"  said  the  magician,  "to  go  thither, 
for  I  will  cast  a  spell  upon  the  dog,  so  that  he  shall 
injure  no  one." 

So  they  went  up  to  the  mound  whereon  the 
herdsman  sat,  and  they  said  to  him,  "Whose  are 
the  sheep  that  thou  dost  keep?  And  to  whom  does 
yonder  castle  belong?" 

"Stupid  are  ye,  truly,"  the  man  replied.  "For 
through  the  whole  world  is  it  known  that  this  is 
the  castle  of  Yspaddaden  Penkawr." 

"And  who  art  thou?"  they  asked  him. 

"I  am  called  Custennin,  the  son  of  Dyfnedig;  and 
my  brother  Yspaddaden  Penkawr  opposed  me 
because  of  my  possessions  and  hath  taken  them 
from  me.  And  ye,  also,  who  are  ye?" 

"We  are  an  embassy  from  King  Arthur,  come 
to  seek  Olwen,  the  daughter  of  Yspaddaden  Pen- 
hawr." 

"O !  men !"  the  man  exclaimed,  "the  mercy  of 
heaven  be  upon  you!  Do  not  that  for  all  the 

46 


world;  for  none  who  ever  came  hither  on  this 
quest  has  returned  alive." 

So  saying  the  herdsman  rose  up,  and  as  he  did 
so  Kilwch  gave  unto  him  a  ring  of  gold.  As  he 
sought  to  put  on  the  ring,  he  found  it  was  too 
small  for  him,  so  he  placed  it  on  the  finger  of  his 
glove.  Then  he  went  home,  and  gave  the  glove  to 
his  spouse  to  keep.  Taking  the  ring  from  the 
glove  she  said: 

"Whence  came  this  ring?  For  thoit  art  not 
wont  to  have  good  fortune  like  this." 

"I  went,"  said  he,  "to  the  sea  to  seek  for  fish, 
and,  lo,  I  saw  a  dead  body  borne  upon  the  waves. 
And  a  fairer  corpse  than  it  did  I  never  behold. 
And  from  its  finger  did  I  take  this  ring." 

"O  man!"  said  she,  "does  the  sea  permit  its 
dead  to  wear  jewels?  Show  me,  then,  this  body." 

"O  wife!"  he  answered,  "forgive  me  for  what 
I  have  just  said;  but  indeed  him  to  whom  this  ring 
belonged  thou  shalt  see  here  in  the  evening." 

"And  who  is  he?"  asked  the  woman. 

"Kilwch,  the  son  of  Kilydd,  who  has  come  to 
seek  Olwen  for  his  wife." 

When  she  heard  that,  her  feelings  were  divided 
between  the  joy  that  she  had  that  her  nephew,  the 
son  of  her  sister,  was  coming  to  her,  and  sorrow, 
because  she  had  never  known  any  one  to  depart 
alive  who  had  come  on  that  quest. 

Meanwhile  Kilwch  and  his  companions  rode  for- 
ward to  the  gate  of  Custennin,  the  herdsman's 

47 


Member  Stories 

dwelling.  And,  when  she  heard  their  footsteps  ap- 
proaching, she  ran  out  with  joy  to  greet  them. 

And  when  she  met  them  she  sought  to  throw 
her  arms  about  their  necks.  But  Kay  snatched  a 
billet  out  of  a  pile  of  wood  and  placed  it  between 
her  two  hands,  and  so  strong  was  she  that  she 
squeezed  it  so  hard  that  it  became  a  twisted  coil. 

"Oh,  woman !"  said  Kay,  "if  thou  hadst  squeezed 
me  thus  none  could  ever  again  have  set  their  af- 
fections on  me.  Such  tokens  of  thy  love  would  do 
thy  friends  much  harm." 

Then  they  entered  into  the  house,  and  were 
served  with  meat  and  wine,  and  after  that  they  all 
went  forth  to  amuse  themselves.  As  they  all  sat 
feasting  the  woman  opened  a  stone  chest  that  was 
before  the  chimney  corner,  and  out  of  it  arose  a 
youth  with  yellow  curling  hair.  At  this  they  were 
all  amazed  and  one  of  them  said,  "It  is  a  pity  to 
keep  this  youth  shut  up  in  a  chest.  I  am  sure  it 
is  not  his  own  crime  that  is  visited  upon  him." 

"This  is  but  a  remnant  of  my  children,"  said  the 
woman.  "Three  and  twenty  of  my  sons  has 
Yspaddaden  Penkawr  slain,  and  I  have  no  more 
hope  of  this  one  than  of  the  others  and  thus  I  con- 
ceal him  in  this  chest." 

Then  Kay  said,  "Let  him  come  to  be  a  com- 
panion with  me,  and  he  shall  not  be  slain  unless 
I  also  am  slain  with  him."  To  this  she  agreed,  and 
the  young  man  became  the  companion  of  Kay. 

48 


fftom  tbe  fftabinogion 

After  the  meal  was  over  the  woman  asked  them, 
saying,  "Upon  what  errand  came  you  here  ?" 

"We  came  to  seek  Olwen  for  this  youth,"  they 
replied. 

"Then,"  said  the  woman,  "in  the  name  of 
Heaven,  since  no  one  of  this  castle  hath  yet  seen 
you,  return  again  whence  you  came." 

"Heaven  is  our  witness  that  we  shall  not  return 
until  we  have  seen  the  maiden,"  they  replied. 

"Does  she  ever  come  hither,"  inquired  Kay,  "so 
that  she  may  be  seen?" 

"She  comes  here  every  Saturday  to  wash  her 
head;  and  in  the  vessel  where  she  washes,  she 
leaves  all  her  rings,  and  she  never  either  comes 
herself,  or  sends  any  messengers,  to  fetch  them." 

"Will  she  come  here  if  she  is  sent  for?"  inquired 
Kay. 

"Heaven  knows  that  I  will  not  destroy  my  soul, 
nor  will  I  betray  those  that  trust  me.  Unless  you 
will  pledge  me  your  faith  that  you  will  not  harm 
her,  I  will  not  send  for  her." 

"We  pledge  it,"  they  said. 

So  a  message  was  sent;  and  the  maiden  soon 
came  before  them.  She  was  clothed  in  a  robe  of 
flame-colored  silk,  and  about  her  neck  was  a  col- 
lar of  ruddy  gold,  on  which  were  precious  emeralds 
and  rubies.  More  yellow  was  her  head  than  the 
flower  of  the  broom;  and  her  skin  was  whiter  than 
the  foam  of  the  wave;  and  fairer  were  her  hands 
and  her  ringers  than  the  blossoms  of  the  wood- 

49 


TOonfcer  Stories 

anemone  amidst  the  spray  of  the  meadow-fountain. 
The  eye  of  the  trained  hawk,  or  the  glance  of  the 
three-mewed  falcon,  was  not  brighter  than  hers. 
Her  bosom  was  more  snowy  than  the  breast  of 
the  white  swan;  her  cheek  was  redder  than  the 
reddest  roses;  and  who  so  beheld  her  was  rilled 
with  love  for  her.  Four  white  trefoils  sprung  up 
wherever  she  trod;  and  therefore  she  was  called 
Olwen. 

As  she  entered  the  house  she  stood  a  moment 
looking  at  the  assembly,  and  then  she  went  and 
took  a  seat  beside  Kilwch,  upon  the  foremost 
bench.  As  soon  as  he  looked  upon  her  he  knew 
her,  and  he  said : 

"Ah,  maiden!  thou  art  she  whom  I  have  loved; 
and  many  a  day  have  I  loved  thee ;  come  away  with 
me  and  be  my  bride  lest  they  speak  evil  of  thee 
and  of  me." 

"I  cannot  do  this,"  she  replied,  "however  much 
I  might  like  it,  for  I  have  pledged  my  father  not  to 
go  with  any  one  without  his  counsel,  for  it  has 
been  said  that  his  life  will  last  only  until  the  time  of 
my  espousals.  Whatever  is  must  be,  but  I  will 
give  thee  this  advice,  if  thou  wilt  take  it.  Go  ask 
me  of  my  father,  and  what  he  shall  require  of  thee, 
grant  it,  and  thou  wilt  obtain  me.  But  if  thou 
deny  him  anything,  thou  wilt  not  obtain  me,  and 
it  will  be  well  for  thee  if  thou  escape  with  thy  life." 

"All  this  I  promise,"  said  Kilwch,  "if  the  occa- 
sion offers." 

SO 


ffrom  tbe  nDabtnoaton 

Then  she  bade  them  adieu  and  started  to  her 
chamber,  and  they  all  rose  up  and  followed  her 
into  the  castle.  And  they  slew  the  nine  porters 
that  were  at  the  nine  gates,  in  silence.  And  they 
slew  the  nine  watch-dogs,  without  one  of  them 
barking.  And  they  went  forward  to  the  hall,  and 
there  they  saw  the  King  Yspaddaden  Penhawr. 

"The  greeting  of  Heaven  and  of  man  be  unto 
thee,  Yspaddaden  Penhawr,"  said  they. 

"And  you — wherefore  come  you?"  said  the 
king,  in  a  stern  voice. 

"We  come  to  ask  thy  daughter  Olwen  for 
Kilwch,  the  son  of  Kilydd,  the  son  of  Kelyddon," 
they  replied. 

"Where  are  my  pages  and  my  servants?"  said 
the  King.  "Raise  up  my  two  eyebrows  which  have 
fallen  over  my  eyes,  that  I  may  see  the  fashion  of 
my  son-in-law."  And  they  did  so. 

And  when  he  had  looked  upon  him  for  awhile  he 
said,  "Come  hither  to-morrow,  and  you  shall  have 
my  answer." 

Then  they  rose  up  to  go  forth,  and  as  they  went 
the  king  seized  one  of  the  three  poisoned  darts 
that  lay  beside  him,  and  threw  it  after  them.  And 
Bedwyr  caught  it  in  his  hand,  and  flung  it  back, 
and  pierced  the  king  with  it  through  the  knee. 

At  this  he  cried,  "A  cursed  ungentle  son-in-law, 
truly!  I  shall  ever  walk  the  worse  for  his  rude- 
ness, and  shall  ever  be  without  a  cure.  This  poi- 
soned iron  pains  me  like  the  bite  of  a  gad-fly. 

51 


Wlonfcer 

Cursed  be  the  smith  who  forged  it,  and  the  anvil 
whereon  it  was  wrought !" 

Then  they  withdrew  from  the  castle,  and  that 
night  they  took  up  their  abode  in  the  home  of  Cus- 
tennin  the  herdsman.  The  next  day,  with  the 
dawn,  they  arrayed  themselves  with  haste,  and  pro- 
ceeded again  to  the  castle,  and  as  they  entered  the 
hall  they  said: 

"Yspaddaden  Penkawr,  give  us  thy  daughter  in 
consideration  of  her  dower  and  her  maiden  fee, 
which  we  will  pay  to  thee  and  to  her  two  kins- 
women likewise.  And  unless  thou  wilt  do  so  thou 
shalt  meet  with  thy  death  on  her  account." 

To  this  he  replied,  "Her  four  great-grand- 
mothers and  her  four  great-grandsires  are  yet 
alive;  and  it  is  needful  that  I  take  counsel  with 
them." 

"Be  it  so,"  they  answered.  "We  will  go  to 
meat." 

As  they  rose  up  to  go  he  took  the  second  dart 
that  was  beside  him,  and  cast  it  after  them.  And 
Menw,  the  son  of  Gwaedd  caught  it,  and  flung  it 
back  at  him,  and  struck  him  in  the  centre  of  the 
breast,  so  that  it  came  out  at  the  small  of  his  back. 

"A  cursed  ungentle  son-in-law,  truly!"  said  he. 
"The  hard  iron  pains  me  like  the  bite  of  a  horse- 
leech. Cursed  be  the  hearth  whereon  it  was 
heated,  and  the  smith  who  forged  it !  Henceforth, 
whenever  I  go  up  a  hill,  I  shall  have  a  shortness 

52 


Jrotn  tbe  HDabinoaion 

in  my  breath  and  a  pain  in  my  chest,  and  I  shall 
often  loathe  my  food." 

So  they  left  him  and  went  to  their  own  lodgings 
and  spent  the  day  in  feasting  and  in  pleasant  games 
and  sports. 

The  third  day  they  returned  again  to  the  palace. 
And  Yspaddaden  Penkawr  said  to  them,  "Shoot 
not  at  me  again,  unless  you  desire  death.  Where 
are  my  attendants?  Lift  up  the  forks  of  my  eye- 
brows, which  have  fallen  over  my  eyeballs,  that  I 
may  see  the  fashion  of  my  son-in-law." 

Then  after  he  had  denied  them  again  they  arose 
to  depart;  and,  as  they  did  so,  Yspaddaden  Pen- 
kawr took  the  third  poisoned  dart,  and  cast  it  at 
them.  And  Kilwch  caught  it,  and  threw  it  back 
vigorously,  and  wounded  him  through  the  eyeball 
so  that  the  dart  came  out  at  the  back  of  his  head. 

"A  cursed  ungentle  son-in-law,  truly!  As  long 
as  I  remain  alive,  my  eyesight  will  be  the  worse. 
Whenever  I  go  against  the  wind,  my  eyes  will 
water,  and  peradventure  my  head  will  burn,  and  I 
shall  have  a  giddiness  every  new  moon.  Cursed 
be  the  fire  in  which  the  dart  was  forged !  Like  the 
bite  of  a  mad  dog  is  the  stroke  of  this  poisoned 
iron." 

And  again  they  withdrew  and  spent  the  day  in 
feasting  and  in  pastimes  and  in  pleasant  sports. 

On  the  next  day  they  came  to  the  palace  once 
more,  and  they  said  to  Yspaddaden,  "Shoot  not 
at  us  any  more,  unless  thou  desirest  such  hurt  and 

53 


Storiee 

harm  and  torture  as  thou  now  hast,  and  even  more. 
Give  us  thy  daughter,  and  if  thou  wilt  not  give  her, 
thou  shalt  receive  thy  death  because  of  her." 

"Where  is  he  that  seeks  my  daughter?"  said 
Penkawr.  "Come  hither,  where  I  may  see  thee." 
And  they  placed  him  in  a  chair  face  to  face  with 
him. 

As  Yspaddaden  Penkawr  looked  upon  him  he 
said,  "Is  it  thou  that  seekest  my  daughter?" 

"It  is  I,"  answered  Kilwch. 

"I  must  have  thy  pledge  that  thou  wilt  not  do 
towards  me  otherwise  than  is  just,  and  when  I 
have  gotten  that  which  I  shall  name,  my  daughter 
thou  shalt  have." 

"I  promise  thee  willingly,"  said  Kilwch.  "Name 
what  thou  wilt." 

"I  will  do  so,"  said  he.  "Seest  thou  yonder  red- 
tilled  ground?" 

"I  see  it,"  answered  Kilwch. 

"When  first  I  met  the  mother  of  this  maiden, 
nine  bushels  of  flax  were  sown  therein  and  none 
has  yet  sprung  up,  neither  white  nor  black.  I  re- 
quire of  thee  to  have  the  flax  to  sow  in  the  new 
land  yonder,  that  when  it  grows  up  it  may  make  a 
white  wimple  for  my  daughter's  head  on  the  day 
of  thy  wedding." 

"It  will  be  ea'Sv  for  me  to  compass  this,  although 
thou  mayst  think  that  it  will  not  be  easy,"  answered 
Kilwch. 

"Though  thou  get  this,  there  is  yet  that  which 

54 


from  the  fl&abtnogion 

thou  wilt  not  get, — the  harp  of  Teirtu,  to  play  to 
us  that  night.  When  a  man  desires  that  it  should 
play,  it  does  so  itself;  and  when  he  desires  that  it 
should  cease  it  ceases.  And  this  he  will  not  give 
thee  of  his  own  free  will,  and  thou  wilt  not  be  able 
to  compel  him." 

"It  will  be  easy  for  me  to  compass  this,  al- 
though thou  mayest  think  that  it  will  not  be  easy," 
said  Kilwch. 

"Though  thou  get  this,  there  is  yet  that  which 
thou  wilt  not  get.  I  require  thee  to  get  for  me 
my  huntsman  Mabon,  the  son  of  Modron.  He 
was  taken  from  his  mother  when  three  nights  old, 
and  it  is  not  known  where  he  now  is,  nor  whether 
he  is  living  or  dead." 

"It  will  be  easy  for  me  to  compass  this,  al- 
though thou  mayest  think  it  will  not  be  easy,"  said 
Kilwch. 

"Though  thou  get  him,  there  is  that  which  thou 
wilt  not  get, — the  two  cubs  of  the  wolf,  Cast 
Rhymhi;  no  leash  in  the  world  will  hold  them,  but 
a  leash  made  from  the  beard  of  Dissull  Varvawc, 
the  robber.  And  the  leash  will  be  of  no  avail  un- 
less it  be  plucked  from  his  beard  while  he  is  alive, 
and  twitched  out  with  wooden  tweezers.  While 
he  lives  he  will  not  suffer  it  to  be  done  to  him,  and 
the  leash  will  be  of  no  use  should  he  be  dead,  be- 
cause it  will  be  brittle." 

"It  will  be  easy  for  me  to  compass  this,  although 

55 


TOonfcer  Storfes 

thou  mayest  think  it  will  not  be  easy,"  replied 
Kilwch. 

"When  thou  get  this,  there  is  that  yet  which  thou 
wilt  not  get, — the  sword  of  Gwrnach  the  Giant; 
of  his  own  free  will  he  will  not  give  it,  either  for  a 
price  or  as  a  gift;  and  thou  wilt  never  be  able  to 
compel  him." 

"It  will  be  easy  for  me  to  compass  this,  although 
thou  mayest  think  that  it  will  not  be  easy,"  said 
Kilwch. 

"Though  thou  get  this,  there  is  yet  that 
which  thou  wilt  not  get.  Difficulties  shalt  thou 
meet  with,  and  nights  without  sleep,  in  seeking 
this,  and,  if  thou  obtain  it  not,  neither  shalt  thou 
obtain  my  daughter." 

To  this  Kilwch  answered,  "Horses  shall  I  have 
and  brave  men  to  aid  me,  and  my  lord  and  kins- 
man Arthur  will  obtain  for  me  all  these  things. 
And  I  shall  gain  thy  daughter,  and  thou  shalt  lose 
thy  life." 

"Go  forward  then  and  thou  shalt  be  chargeable 
for  food  and  raiment  for  my  daughter  whilst  thou 
art  seeking  these  things;  and  when  thou  hast  com- 
passed all  these  marvels,  thou  shalt  have  my  daugh- 
ter for  thy  wife." 

Thereupon  they  left  the  castle  of  Penkawr  and 
started  on  their  way  to  achieve  the  tasks  that  had 
been  set  before  Kilwch,  seeking  first  to  find  the 
sword  of  Gwrnach  the  Giant. 


CHAPTER  II 

HOW  KILWCH  WON  OLWEN  FOR  HIS  WIFE 

ALL  that  day  they  journeyed,  and  as  the  sun 
was  sinking  behind  the  hills  they  beheld 
a  castle,  which  was  the  largest  in  the 
world.  And  lo,  a  black  man,  huger  than  any 
three  of  the  men  of  the  world,  came  out  of  the 
castle. 

As  he  came  near  they  spake  unto  him  saying, 
"Whence  comest  thou,  O  man?" 

"From  the  castle  you  see  yonder,"  the  black 
man  replied. 

"Whose  castle  is  that?"  they  asked. 

"Stupid  are  ye,  truly,  O  men,"  he  answered. 
"There  is  no  one  in  the  world  that  does  not  know 
to  whom  this  castle  belongs.  It  is  the  castle  of 
Gwrnach,  the  giant." 

"What  treatment  is  there  for  guests  and 
strangers  that  alight  at  that  castle?"  inquired 
Kilwch. 

"O  chieftain,"  the  black  man  replied,  "Heaven 
protect  thee!  No  guest  ever  returned  thence 
alive,  and  no  one  may  enter  therein,  unless  he 
brings  with  him  his  craft." 

Hearing  this  they  proceeded  toward  the  gate; 

57 


TOonfcer  Stories 

and  Gwrhyr  Gwalstawd  asked,  "Is  there  a  porter  at 
the  gate?" 

"There  is,"  the  man  replied,  "but  wherefore  dost 
thou  inquire?" 

"Open  the  gate,"  demanded  one  of  Kilwch's 
men. 

"I  will  not  open  it,"  the  porter  replied. 

"Wherefore  wilt  thou  not  open  it?"  asked 
Kilwch. 

"The  knife  is  in  the  meat,  and  the  drink  is  in  the 
horn,  and  there  is  revelry  in  the  hall  of  Gwrnach 
the  Giant,  and  except  for  a  craftsman  who  brings 
his  craft  the  gate  will  not  be  opened  to-night." 

"Verily,  porter,"  said  Kay,  "I  may  enter,  for 
my  craft  bring  I  with  me." 

"What  is  thy  craft?"  the  porter  inquired. 

"The  best  burnisher  of  swords  am  I  in  the 
world,"  said  Kay. 

"I  will  go  and  tell  this  unto  Gwrnach  the  Giant, 
and  I  will  bring  thee  an  answer." 

So  the  porter  went  in,  and  Gwrnach  said  to  him, 
"Hast  thou  any  news  from  the  gate  ?" 

"I  have,"  replied  the  porter.  "There  is  a  party 
at  the  door  of  the  gate  who  desire  to  come  in." 

"Didst  thou  inquire  of  them  if  they  possessed 
any  art  ?" 

"I  did  inquire,"  said  he,  "and  one  told  me  he  was 
well  skilled  in  the  burnishing  of  swords." 

"We  have  need  of  him,  then,"  said  the  Giant. 
"For  some  time  have  I  sought  for  some  one  to 

58 


from  tbc  flDabinoofon 

polish  my  sword,  and  could  find  no  one.  Let  this 
man  enter,  since  he  brings  with  him  his  craft." 

Thereupon  the  porter  returned  and  opened  the 
gate.  And  Kay  went  in  by  himself,  and  he  saluted 
Gwrnach  the  Giant.  And  a  chair  was  placed  for 
him  opposite  to  Gwrnach.  And  Gwrnach  said  to 
him,  "O  man !  is  it  true  that  is  reported  of  thee, — 
that  thou  knowest  how  to  burnish  swords?' 

"I  know  full  well  how  to  do  so,"  answered  Kay. 

Then  Gwrnach  commanded  that  his  sword  be 
brought  to  him.  And  Kay  took  a  blue  whetstone 
from  under  his  arm,  and  asked  him  whether  he 
would  have  it  burnished  white  or  blue." 

"Do  with  it  as  it  seems  good  to  thee,  and  as 
thou  wouldst  if  it  were  thine  own,"  the  Giant  an- 
swered. 

Then  Kay  polished  one-half  of  the  blade,  and 
put  it  in  his  hand.  "Will  this  please  thee?"  he 
asked. 

"I  would  rather  than  all  that  is  in  my  dominions 
that  the  whole  of  it  were  like  unto  this,"  he  an- 
swered. "But  it  is  a  marvel  to  me  that  such  a 
man  as  thou  should  be  without  a  companion." 

"O  noble  sir,"  Kay  replied,  "I  have  a  companion, 
albeit  he  is  not  skilled  in  this  art." 

"Who  may  he  be?"  inquired  Gwrnach. 

"Let  the  porter  go  forth,  and  I  will  tell  him 
whereby  he  may  know  him.  The  head  of  his  lance 
will  leave  its  shaft,  and  draw  blood  from  the  wind, 
and  will  descend  upon  its  shaft  again." 

59 


TOonfcer  Storie0 

Then  the  porter  went  to  the  gate  and  opened 
it,  and  Bedwyr  entered.  And  Kay  said,  "Bedwyr 
is  very  skillful,  although  he  knows  not  this  art." 

And  there  was  much  discourse  among  those  who 
were  without  because  that  Kay  and  Bedwyr  had 
gone  in.  And  a  young  man  who  was  with  him, 
the  only  son  of  Custennin,  the  herdsman,  got  in 
also.  And  he  contrived  to  admit  all  the  rest, 
though  they  kept  themselves  concealed. 

The  sword  was  now  polished,  and  Kay  gave  it 
into  the  hands  of  Gwrnach,  the  Giant,  to  see  if  he 
were  pleased  with  the  work.  And  the  Giant  said, 
"The  work  is  good;  I  am  content  therewith." 

"It  is  thy  scabbard  that  hath  rusted  thy  sword," 
said  Kay.  "Give  it  to  me,  that  I  may  take  out  the 
wooden  sides  of  it,  and  put  in  new  ones." 

So  saying  he  took  the  scabbard  from  him,  and 
the  sword  in  the  other  hand.  And  he  came  and 
stood  over  the  Giant,  as  if  he  would  have  put  the 
sword  into  the  scabbard ;  and  with  it  he  cut  off  the 
head  of  the  Giant  at  one  blow.  Then  they  de- 
spoiled the  castle,  and  took  from  it  what  goods 
and  jewels  they  would.  And  again  on  the  same 
day,  at  the  beginning  of  the  year,  they  came  to 
Arthur's  court,  bearing  with  them  the  sword  of 
Gwrnach  the  Giant.  Thus  they  achieved  the  first 
of  their  tasks. 

Now  when  they  told  King  Arthur  how  they  had 
sped,  he  said,  "It  is  a  good  beginning." 

Then    they   took    counsel   together   and   said, 

60 


Jfrom  tbe  fiDa  bfnofiton 

"Which  of  these  marvels  will  it  be  best  to  seek 
next?" 

"It  will  be  best,"  said  one,  "to  seek  Mabon,  the 
son  of  Modron;  and  he  will  not  be  found,  unless 
we  first  find  Eidoel,  the  son  of  Aer,  his  kinsman." 

Then  King  Arthur  rose  up,  and  the  warriors  of 
the  Island  of  Britain  with  him,  to  seek  for  Eidoel, 
and  they  proceeded  until  they  came  before  the 
Castle  of  Glivi,  where  Eiodel  was  imprisoned. 

Glivi  stood  on  the  summit  of  his  castle,  and  as 
he  saw  Arthur  and  his  men,  he  said,  "King  Arthur, 
what  requirest  thou  of  me,  since  nothing  remains 
to  me  in  this  fortress,  and  I  have  neither  joy  nor 
pleasure  in  it,  neither  wheat  nor  oats?  Seek  not 
therefore  to  do  me  harm." 

And  King  Arthur  answered,  "Not  to  injure  thee 
came  I  hither,  but  to  seek  for  the  prisoner  that  is 
with  thee." 

"I  will  give  thee  my  prisoner,  though  I  had  not 
thought  to  give  him  up  to  any  one,  and  therewith 
shalt  thou  have  my  support  and  my  aid." 

At  this  his  followers  said  unto  King  Arthur, 
"Lord,  go  thou  home;  thou  canst  not  proceed  with 
thy  host  in  quest  of  such  small  adventures  as 
these." 

Then  said  King  Arthur,  "It  were  well  for  thee, 
Gwrhyr  Gwalstawd  leithoedd,  to  go  upon  this 
quest;  for  thou  knowest  all  languages,  and  art 
familiar  with  those  of  birds  and  beasts.  And  thou, 
Eidoel,  oughtest  likewise  to  go  with  the  men  in 

61 


TOonfcer  Stories 

search  of  thy  cousin.  As  for  you,  Kay  and  Bedwyr, 
I  have  hope  of  whatever  adventure  ye  are  in  quest 
of,  that  ye  will  achieve  it.  Achieve  ye  this  adven- 
ture for  me."  So  saying  King  Arthur  left  them 
and  returned  to  his  castle. 

Then  they  went  forward  until  they  came  to  the 
place  where  the  Ousel  of  Cilgwri  dwelt.  And 
Gwrhyr  adjured  her  for  the  sake  of  Heaven,  say- 
ing, "Tell  me  if  thou  knowest  aught  of  Mabon,  the 
son  of  Modron,  who  was  taken  when  three  nights 
old  from  between  his  mother  and  the  wall." 

And  the  Ousel  answered,  "When  I  first  came 
here,  there  was  a  smith's  anvil  in  this  place,  and 
I  was  then  a  young  bird.  And  from  that  time  no 
work  has  been  done  upon  it,  save  the  pecking  of 
my  beak  every  evening;  and  now  there  is  not  so 
much  as  the  size  of  a  nut  remaining  thereof;  yet 
during  all  that  time  I  have  never  heard  of  the  man 
for  whom  you  inquire.  Nevertheless,  I  will  do 
that  which  is  fitting  that  I  should  do  for  an  em- 
bassy from  Arthur.  There  is  a  race  of  animals  who 
were  formed  before  me,  and  I  will  be  your  guide  to 
them." 

So  they  proceeded  to  the  place  where  was  the 
Stag  of  Redynvre.  "Stag  of  Redynvre,"  said  the 
Ousel,  "behold,  we  are  come  to  thee,  an  embassy 
from  King  Arthur;  for  we  have  not  heard  of  any 
animal  older  than  thou.  Say,  knowest  thou  aught 
of  Mabon,  the  son  of  Modron,  who  was  taken  from 
his  mother  when  three  nights  old?" 

62 


fftom  tbe  nDabinoaion 

The  Stag  answered,  "When  first  I  came  hither, 
there  was  a  plain  all  around  me,  without  any  trees 
save  one  oak  sapling,  which  grew  up  to  be  an  oak 
with  an  hundred  branches.  And  that  oak  has 
since  perished;  so  that  now  nothing  remains  of  it 
but  the  withered  stump.  And  from  that  day  to 
this  I  have  been  here;  yet  have  I  never  heard  of 
the  man  for  whom  you  inquire.  Nevertheless,  be- 
ing an  embassy  from  Arthur,  I  will  be  your  guide 
to  the  place  where  there  is  an  animal  which  was 
formed  before  I  was." 

So  they  proceeded  to  the  place  where  was  the 
Owl  of  Cwm  Cawlwyd.  "Owl  of  Cwm  Cawlwyd," 
said  the  Stag,  "here  is  an  embassy  from  King  Ar- 
thur to  ask  thee  if  thou  knowest  aught  of  Mabon, 
the  son  of  Modron,  who  was  taken  from  his  mother 
when  he  was  three  nights  old." 

"If  I  knew,  I  would  tell  you,"  replied  the  Owl. 
"When  first  I  came  hither,  the  whole  valley  you 
see  was  a  wooded  glen.  And  a  race  of  men  came 
and  rooted  it  up.  And  there  grew  there  a  second 
wood;  and  this  wood  is  the  third.  My  wings,  are 
they  not  withered  stumps?  Yet  all  this  time,  even 
until  to-day,  I  have  never  heard  of  the  man  for 
whom  you  inquire.  Nevertheless,  I  will  be  the 
guide  of  Arthur's  embassy  until  you  come  to  the 
place  where  is  the  oldest  animal  in  the  world,  and 
the  one  that  has  traveled  most,  the  Eagle  of 
Gwern  Abwy." 

When  they  reached  the  place  where  the  Eagle 

63 


TOonfcer  Stories 

dwelt,  the  Owl  said,  "Eagle  of  Gwern  Abwy,  we 
have  come  to  thee,  an  embassy  from  Arthur,  to  ask 
thee  if  thou  knowest  aught  of  Mabon,  the  son  of 
Modron,  who  was  taken  from  his  mother  when  he 
was  three  nights  old?" 

"If  I  knew  I  would  tell  you,"  said  the  Eagle.  "I 
have  been  here  for  a  great  space  of  time,  and  when 
I  first  came  hither  there  was  a  rock  here  from  the 
top  of  which  I  peeped  at  the  stars  every  evening; 
and  it  has  crumbled  away,  and  now  it  is  not  so 
much  as  a  span  high.  All  that  time  I  have  been 
here,  and  I  have  never  heard  of  the  man  for  whom 
you  inquire,  except  once,  when  I  went  in  search 
of  food  as  far  as  Llyn  Llyw.  And  when  I  came 
there  I  struck  my  talons  into  a  salmon,  thinking 
he  would  serve  me  as  food  for  a  long  time.  But 
he  drew  me  into  the  water,  and  I  was  scarcely  able 
to  escape  from  him.  After  that  I  made  peace  with 
him;  and  I  drew  fifty  fish  spears  out  of  his  back, 
and  relieved  him.  Unless  he  knows  something  of 
him  whom  you  seek,  I  cannot  tell  who  may.  How- 
ever, I  will  guide  you  to  the  place  where  he  is." 

So  they  went  together;  and  when  they  reached 
the  place  where  the  salmon  dwelt  the  Eagle  said, 
"Salmon  of  Llyn  Llyw,  I  have  come  to  thee  with 
an  embassy  from  Arthur,  to  ask  thee  if  thou  know- 
est aught  concerning  Mabon,  the  son  of  Modron, 
who  was  taken  away  when  three  nights  old  from 
his  mother." 

"As  much  as  I  know  I  will  tell  thee,"  the  Salmon 

64 


from  tbe  nDabinogion 

answered.  "With  every  tide  I  go  along  the  river 
upwards  until  I  come  near  to  the  walls  of  Glou- 
cester, and  there  have  I  found  such  wrong  as  I 
never  found  elsewhere.  And  to  the  end  that  ye 
may  give  evidence  thereto  let  one  of  you  go  hither 
upon  each  of  my  two  shoulders." 

So  Kay  and  Gwrhyr  Gwalstawd  put  themselves 
upon  the  two  shoulders  of  the  Salmon,  and  they 
proceeded  until  they  came  unto  the  wall  of  a 
prison;  and  there  they  heard  a  great  wailing  and 
lamenting  from  the  dungeon. 

And  Gwrhyr  called  out  in  a  loud  voice  saying, 
"Who  is  it  that  laments  in  this  house  of  stone  ?" 

"Alas!"  replied  the  prisoner,  "it  is  Mabon,  the 
son  of  Modron,  who  is  here  imprisoned,  and  no  im- 
prisonment was  ever  so  grievous  as  mine." 

"Hast  thou  hope  of  being  released  for  gold,  or 
for  silver,  or  for  any  gifts  of  wealth,  or  through 
battle  and  fighting?"  they  inquired. 

"Only  by  fighting,"  he  replied,  "will  whatever 
I  may  gain  be  obtained." 

Then  they  went  thence  and  returned  to  King 
Arthur,  and  they  told  him  where  Mabon,  the  son 
of  Modron,  was  imprisoned,  and  that  he  could  be 
delivered  only  by  force  of  arms.  So  Arthur  sum- 
moned the  warriors  of  the  island,  and  they  jour- 
neyed as  far  as  Gloucester  to  the  place  where  Ma- 
bon was  in  prison.  Kay  and  Redwyr  were  upon 
the  shoulders  of  the  fish,  whilst  the  warriors  of 
Arthur  attacked  the  castle.  And  Kay  broke 

6s 


"Cdcmfccr  Stories 

through  the  wall  into  the  dungeon,  and  brought 
away  the  prisoner  upon  his  back,  whilst  the  fight 
was  going  on  between  the  warriors.  And  King 
Arthur,  having  obtained  the  object  of  his  search, 
returned  home  and  Mabon  with  him  now  at  lib- 
erty. Thus  was  achieved  the  capture  of  Mabon. 

Then  they  set  forth  to  achieve  the  task  of  the 
flax.  Now  on  a  certain  day,  as  Gwyhyr  Gwalstawd 
was  walking  over  a  mountain,  he  heard  a  wailing 
and  a  grievous  cry.  And  when  he  heard  it  he 
sprang  forward  and  went  towards  it.  And  when 
he  came  there,  he  saw  a  fire  burning  among  the 
turf,  and  an  ant  hill  nearly  surrounded  with  fire. 
And  he  drew  his  sword,  and  smote  off  the  ant  hill 
close  to  the  earth,  so  that  it  escaped  being  burned 
in  the  fire.  And  the  ants  said  to  him,  "Receive 
for  us  the  blessing  of  Heaven,  and  that  which  no 
man  can  give  we  will  give  thee." 

Then  they  fetched  the  nine  bushels  of  flax  seed 
which  Yspaddaden  Penkawr  had  required  of 
Kilwch,  and  they  brought  the  full  measure  without 
lacking  any,  except  one  flax  seed,  and  that  a  lame 
ant  brought  in  before  night. 

Then  said  King  Arthur,  "Which  of  the  marvels 
will  it  be  best  for  us  to  seek  next?" 

"It  will  be  best  to  seek  for  the  two  cubs  of  the 
wolf  Cast  Rhymhi,"  they  said. 

"Is  it  known,"  replied  King  Arthur,  "where  she 
is?" 

66 


date  ajgreat  amofee  tot)icij 
bit*  not  beni  toiti)  ttje  toinb  j^ 


from  tbe  fl&abfnoafott 

"She  is  at  the  house  of  Tringad  in  Aber  Deu 
Cleddyf,"  said  one. 

Then  King  Arthur  went  to  the  house  of  Trin- 
gad in  Aber  Deu  Cleddyf,  and  he  inquired  of  him 
whether  he  had  heard  of  her  there. 

"She  is  in  the  form  of  a  she-wolf  with  her  two 
cubs,  and  has  often  slain  my  herds,"  Tringad  re- 
plied, "and  she  is  there  below  in  a  cave  in  Aber 
Cleddyf." 

Then  King  Arthur  went  in  his  ship  Prydwen,  by 
sea,  and  the  others  went  by  land  to  hunt  her.  And 
they  surrounded  her  and  her  two  cubs,  and  took 
them,  and  carried  them  away.  Thus  they  achieved 
the  task  of  finding  the  two  cubs  of  the  wolf. 

Then  they  started  to  find  the  robber  out  of 
whose  beard  they  were  to  make  a  leash  for  the 
cubs.  As  they  journeyed  Kay  and  Bedwyr  came 
to  a  beacon  cairn  on  the  summit  of  Plinlimmon, 
and  there  they  found  the  highest  wind  that  ever 
was  in  the  world.  As  they  looked  around  them 
they  saw  a  great  smoke  towards  the  south  afar 
off,  which  did  not  bend  with  the  wind. 

As  they  gazed  upon  the  smoke  Kay  exclaimed, 
"By  the  hand  of  my  friend,  behold,  yonder  is  the 
fire  of  a  robber !" 

Then  they  arose  and  hastened  toward  the  smoke, 
and  they  came  so  near  it  that  they  could  see  Dillus 
Varvawc  scorching  a  wild  boar. 

"Behold,  yonder  is  the  greatest  robber  that  ever 

67 


TOonber  Stories 

fled  from  King  Arthur,"  said  Bedwyr  unto  Kay. 
"Dost  thou  know  him?" 

"I  do  know  him,"  answered  Kay.  "He  is  Dillus 
Varvawc,  and  no  leash  in  the  world  will  be  able  to 
hold  the  cubs  of  Cast  Rhymhi,  save  a  leash  made 
from  the  beard  of  him  thou  seest  yonder.  And 
even  that  will  be  useless  unless  his  beard  be  plucked 
out  alive,  with  wooden  tweezers,  for  if  dead  it  will 
be  brittle." 

"What  thinkest  thou  that  we  should  do  concern- 
ing this?"  said  Bedwyr. 

"Let  us  suffer  him,"  said  Kay,  "to  eat  as  much 
as  he  will  of  the  meat,  and  after  that  he  will  fall 
asleep." 

So  during  the  time  he  was  eating  they  employed 
themselves  in  making  the  wooden  tweezers.  And 
when  Kay  knew  certainly  that  he  was  asleep  he 
made  a  pit  under  his  feet,  and  then  he  struck  him 
a  violent  blow,  and  squeezed  him  into  the  pit.  And 
there  they  twitched  out  his  beard  completely  with 
the  wooden  tweezers,  and  after  that  they  slew  him 
altogether.  And  from  thence  they  went,  and  took 
the  leash  made  of  the  robber's  beard,  and  they 
gave  it  into  King  Arthur's  hand. 

Thus  they  accomplished  all  the  marvels  that 
Yspaddaden  Penkawr  had  required  of  Kilwch ;  and 
they  set  forward  and  took  all  these  marvels  to  his 
court.  When  they  came  to  the  castle,  Kilwch  said 
to  Yspaddaden  Penkawr. 

68 


from  tbe  nDabinogion 

"We  have  accomplished  all  the  marvelous  tasks 
that  thou  assigned  us;  is  thy  daughter  mine  now?" 

"She  is  thine,"  he  replied,  "for  I  must  keep  my 
promise,  though  I  am  loath  to  do  so;  but  thou 
needest  not  to  thank  me,  but  Arthur  who  hath  ac- 
complished this  for  thee.  By  my  free  will  thou 
shouldst  never  have  her,  for  with  her  I  lose  my 
life." 

Then  Goren,  the  son  of  Custennin,  the  herds- 
man, whose  brothers  Yspaddaden  Penkawr  had 
slain,  seized  him  by  the  hair  of  the  head,  and 
dragged  him  after  him  to  the  keep,  and  there  cut 
off  his  head,  and  placed  it  on  a  stake  on  the  citadel. 
After  which  they  took  possession  of  his  castle  and 
of  his  treasures. 

And  there  was  feasting  and  music  and  great  re- 
joicing that  all  the  tasks  had  been  achieved,  and 
that  the  wicked  King  Penkawr  had  been  slain.  And 
that  night  Olwen  became  Kilwch's  bride,  and  she 
continued  to  be  his  wife  as  long  as  she  lived. 

This  is  one  of  the  most  characteristic  of  the  Welsh 
tales,  and  shows  their  love  for  the  marvelous  and  their 
childish  faith  in  the  power  of  animals  to  think  and  talk 
like  human  beings.  Like  children  of  the  present  day, 
these  children  of  the  forests  and  hills  of  Wales  took  de- 
light in  tales  in  which  deeds  of  magic  and  supernatural 
powers  were  prominent. 

The  characters  and  events  which  it  celebrates  are 
altogether  of  native  origin,  nor  has  any  parallel  or  coun- 
terpart been  discovered  In  any  other  language. 

I  have  omitted  a  number  of  pages  of  the  original  of 

69 


Monger  Stories 

this  story,  especially  those  naming  the  tasks  that  were 
assigned  to  Kilwch,  of  which  there  are  twenty-six  in  all. 
Many  of  them  are  even  more  extravagant  and  chimerical 
than  those  I  have  included. 


T  befell  once  when  King  Arthur  held  his 
Christmas  feast,  some  of  his  best 
knights,  as  Sir  Launcelot  and  his  kin, 
Sir  Marhaus,  Sir  Pelles,  and  the  sons  of  King  Pel- 
linore,  were  absent,  wandering  in  search  of  ad- 
ventures. Still  there  were  many  good  knights  of 
the  Round  Table  in  their  places,  and  no  lack  of 
barons  and  ladies  to  uphold  the  high  revels.  The 
King  kept  New  Year's  day  with  great  splendor, 
bestowing  rich  gifts  on  all  his  knights  and  ladies. 
But  when  the  banquet  was  spread  at  noontide, 
Arthur,  as  his  custom  was,  would  not  sit  at  the 
table  until  some  adventure  should  have  happened. 
He  was  not  long  kept  waiting,  for  suddenly 
there  rode  into  the  great  hall  the  tallest  knight 
that  had  ever  been  seen  by  any  of  the  court.  His 
stature  was  that  of  a  giant,  and  he  had  the  bulk 
of  four  ordinary  men.  He  was  clad  entirely  in 
green,  save  that  he  wore  spurs  of  bright  gold.  His 
long  hair  was  green,  and  a  bushy  beard  of  the  same 
color  flowed  over  his  breast.  The  mighty  steed  on 

7' 


Member 

which  he  sat  was  also  green,  but  its  mane  was 
decked  with  gold  threads.  This  strange-looking 
knight  carried  neither  spear  nor  shield,  but  in  one 
hand  he  bore  a  holly  bough,  and  in  the  other  a 
great  axe  with  an  edge  like  a  razor  and  a  massive 
handle  of  solid  iron.  He  entered  without  making 
any  salutation;  and  the  marvelous  apparition  of 
so  huge  a  man  and  horse,  all  as  green  as  grass, 
awed  for  the  moment  the  boldest  knight  there,  so 
that  no  one  spoke  to  him.  At  last,  in  a  rough 
voice,  he  asked,  "Where  is  the  governor  of  this 
company?" 

At  that  King  Arthur  roused  himself,  saluted  the 
Green  Knight  courteously,  and  invited  him  to  sit 
down  at  the  banquet. 

"That  will  I  not  do,"  answered  the  other.  "I 
come  not  here  to  feast,  but  to  seek  the  most  valiant 
man  of  thy  court,  that  I  may  prove  him;  but  me- 
thinks  here  are  only  beardless  children,  for  I  see 
no  man  who  is  worthy  to  match  me.  If  any  one  of 
you  be  bold  enough  to  strike  one  stroke  for  an- 
other this  axe  shall  be  his,  and  I  will  abide  his 
blow,  but  he  shall  receive  a  stroke  in  return  from 
me  within  twelve  months  and  a  day." 

To  this  strange  challenge  none  of  the  knights 
present  was  eager  to  make  a  reply,  for  all  of  them 
felt  that  after  a  single  blow  from  so  strong  an  arm 
and  so  formidable  a  weapon  as  those  of  the  Green 
Knight,  no  man  would  be  in  condition  either  to 
receive  or  give  another.  When  all  were  thus 

72 


from  tbe  flDaWnogfon 

silent,  the  Green  Knight  rolled  about  his  eyes,  and 
tauntingly  exclaimed  that  the  famous  Knights  of 
the  Round  Table  were  no  better  than  a  pack  of 
cowards.  Then  was  King  Arthur  wrathful,  and  he 
sprang  to  his  feet  and  said  that  he  at  least  feared 
neither  the  Green  Knight  nor  his  axe,  and  that 
he  would  himself  undertake  the  adventure.  So  he 
seized  the  axe,  and  the  knight,  placidly  stroking 
his  beard,  drew  down  his  garments,  bared  his  neck, 
and  awaited  the  blow. 

When  Sir  Gawaine  saw  that,  he  came  from  his 
seat  and  entreated  King  Arthur  not  to  hazard  his 
own  sacred  person  in  that  adventure,  but  to  let 
him  undertake  it  instead.  To  this  the  king  was 
loath  to  assent,  but  all  the  court  so  entreated  him 
that  at  last  he  resigned  the  axe  to  Gawaine. 

"Who,  then,  art  thou?"  said  the  Green  Knight, 
eyeing  scornfully  his  new  opponent. 

"Know  thou  well,"  answered  Gawaine,  "that  I 
am  Gawaine,  son  of  King  Lot  of  Orkney,  Knight 
of  the  Round  Table,  and  nephew  unto  our  gracious 
lord  King  Arthur." 

At  this  the  Green  Knight  smiled  grimly,  saying, 
"It  pleases  me  well  to  receive  a  blow  from  thee; 
but  thou  must  swear  that  within  a  year  and  a  day 
thou  wilt  seek  me  to  receive  a  blow  in  return." 

"Where  shall  I  seek  thee?"  asked  Gawaine. 
"Tell  me  thy  name  and  abode." 

"When  thou  hast  smitten  me,"  answered  the 
knight,  "then  will  I  tell  thee;  and  if  I  cannot  speak 

73 


"CQonfcer  Storiee 

at  all,  it  will  be  so  much  the  better  for  thee.  Take 
now  the  axe,  and  let  me  see  how  thou  canst  smite." 

So  Gawaine  gripped  the  axe,  and  the  knight, 
throwing  aside  his  long  hair,  again  bared  and  bent 
his  neck.  Sir  Gawaine,  lifting  the  axe  on  high, 
smote  with  all  his  might,  and  so  great  a  blow  did 
he  give  that  the  knight's  brawny  neck  was  smitten 
clean  through,  as  if  it  had  been  a  twig,  and  his  huge 
head  rolled  on  the  floor  of  the  hall.  Deeming  that 
now  there  was  an  end  of  their  strange  visitor,  some 
of  the  knights  pushed  the  head  with  their  feet  as 
it  went  past  them.  But  they  had  reckoned  without 
knowing  the  marvelous  vitality  of  the  Green 
Knight.  He  received  Gawaine's  stroke  and  the 
loss  of  his  head  as  though  nothing  had  befallen 
him.  Striding  down  the  hall,  he  picked  up  his 
head.  Then  stepping  back  again  to  his  horse,  he 
mounted,  and  held  up  his  head  at  arm's  length,  the 
which,  raising  its  eyelids  and  gazing  sternly  at  Ga- 
waine said,  "Well  and  mighty  hast  thou  stricken 
me.  Now  be  thou  ready  to  go  forth  according  to 
thy  promise,  and  seek  till  thou  find  me.  Get  thee 
to  the  Green  Chapel,  there  to  receive  from  me  a 
blow  on  New  Year's  morn;  and  if  thou  fail,  then 
art  thou  recreant." 

So  saying,  the  knight,  still  carrying  his  head  in 
his  outstretched  hand,  put  spurs  to  his  horse  and 
dashed  out  of  the  hall.  Undismayed  either  by  this 
fearsome  sight  or  by  the  warning  words  which  the 
head  had  spoken,  Gawaine  burst  out  into  great 

74 


fftom  tbe  HDabinoaicm 

laughter,  in  which  the  king  and  his  knights  pres- 
ently joined,  though  Queen  Guinevere  and  the 
ladies  were  still,  in  truth,  too  much  afraid  to  do 
so.  And  the  banquet  proceeded  without  further 
thought  of  the  Green  Knight. 

The  year  wore  round  till  All-hallowmas,  when 
Sir  Gawaine  began  to  think  of  his  ghastly  tryst 
with  the  headless  knight,  and  prepared  him  for 
his  journey.  King  Arthur  held  a  feast  in  honor  of 
his  nephew,  and  thereafter  Gawaine  set  out  amid 
great  lamentations,  for  there  were  few  that  ex- 
pected to  see  him  again  in  life,  since  it  was  certain 
that  if  the  Green  Knight  smote  off  his  head,  he 
would  not  be  able  to  rise  and  take  it  in  his  hand. 
But  he  rode  forth  showing  no  sign  of  fear;  and 
after  a  long  and  tedious  journey  through  a  wild 
and  desolate  country,  during  which  he  had  many 
perilous  adventures  with  serpents,  wolves,  bulls, 
bears,  and  wild  men,  he  found  himself,  on  Christ- 
mas morning,  in  a  deep  forest  of  ancient  oaks. 
Looking  around  him,  he  saw  at  a  little  distance  the 
noblest  castle  he  had  ever  beheld,  with  walls  that 
rose  to  a  great  height,  and  massive  towers  of  gray 
stone.  Riding  up  to  the  gate,  he  found  it  shut 
fast,  and  the  drawbridge  raised.  Lifting  up  his 
voice,  Gawaine  summoned  the  castle,  and  there 
appeared  at  the  gate  a  porter,  who  asked  his  er- 
rand. The  knight  answered  that  he  sought  a  lodg- 
ing. Then  answered  the  porter  that  he  should  be 
welcome  to  dwell  there  as  long  as  he  would. 

7J 


"CQonfccr  Stories 

Straightway  the  drawbridge  was  let  down,  the 
gate  flew  open,  and  Gawaine  entered.  When  he 
dismounted  from  his  horse  it  was  well  stabled; 
while  many  knights  and  squires  came  forward  to 
receive  the  rider,  conducted  him  into  the  great  hall 
of  the  castle,  and  relieved  him  of  his  helmet  and 
armor.  Then  the  lord  of  the  castle  came  forward, 
courteously  bade  Gawaine  welcome,  and  embraced 
him.  He  was  a  man  of  vast  stature  and  great 
strength,  with  a  stern  but  noble  countenance.  He 
led  Gawaine  into  a  splendid  chamber,  and  assigned 
him  a  page  to  wait  upon  him. 

Having  donned  the  rich  robes  that  were  pro- 
vided for  him,  the  knight  returned  to  the  hall, 
where  he  sat  down  with  his  host  and  the  numerous 
guests  to  a  noble  banquet.  In  answer  to  the  ques- 
tions which  were  courteously  asked  him,  Sir  Ga- 
waine informed  his  entertainer  that  he  was  a 
knight  of  King  Arthur's  court,  whereat  there  was 
joy  in  the  hall,  and  every  one  in  the  company  made 
much  of  him.  After  dinner  all  the  party  went  to 
the  chapel  to  hear  even-song.  There  Sir  Gawaine 
sat  by  the  lord  and  his  lady,  who  was  young  and 
sprightly,  and  surpassed  even  Queen  Guinevere 
in  beauty.  Gawaine  at  the  bidding  of  her  lord,  sa- 
luted her  with  a  kiss,  whereat  she  blushed  rosy  red, 
and  he  begeed  permission  to  be  her  knight  and 
servant.  When  even-song  had  been  said,  all  re- 
turned to  the  hall,  where  they  were  served  with 
wine  and  spices,  and  there  was  much  pleasant  con- 

76 


Ifrom  tbe  fl&abinoaion 

verse.  The  lord  took  off  his  hood — the  which  was 
adorned  with  gold  and  precious  stones — placed  it 
on  a  spear,  and  said  that  he  who  made  the  most 
mirth  should  have  it  for  his  guerdon.  It  was  won 
by  Sir  Gawaine,  who  told  many  stories  that  he  had 
heard  in  King  Arthur's  court;  but  he  bestowed  the 
hood  upon  the  page  that  served  him. 

After  three  days  had  been  pleasantly  passed  in 
feasting  and  merry-making,  the  guests  began  to 
depart,  and  Gawaine  bethought  him  of  the  quest 
he  was  sworn  to  follow.  But  the  lord  of  the  castle 
sought  to  detain  him,  and  asked  him  how  it  hap- 
pened that  he  was  away  from  Arthur's  court  at 
Christmas  tide.  Gawaine  answered  that  he  had 
a  tryst  at  the  Green  Chapel  on  New  Year's  morn. 
The  lord  said  he  would  show  him  the  place,  for  it 
was  only  two  miles  from  his  castle;  and  to  hear 
this  Gawaine  was  well  pleased.  Then  the  lord  said 
he  was  going  out  to  the  chase.  He  asked  the 
knight  to  stay  within  and  keep  his  lady  company 
the  while.  "Whatever,"  he  said,  "I  win  in  the 
chase  shall  be  thine,  and  whatever  thou  mayst 
achieve  while  I  am  absent  thou  shalt  give  to  me." 
To  this  mirthful  bargain  Gawaine  cheerfully  as- 
sented. 

The  knight  of  the  castle  went  forth  accordingly 
into  the  forest  with  huntsmen  and  hounds,  and  Ga- 
waine in  the  meanwhile  entertained  the  lady. 
Very  soon  she  gave  him  to  understand  that  if  he 
would  he  might  have  her  love;  but  he,  being  mind- 

77 


"CdonDcr  Storied 

ful  of  his  duty  to  his  host,  answered  only  that  he 
would  ever  be  her  knight  and  faithful  servant,  nor 
could  she  gain  any  promise  of  his  love  from  him 
even  when  she  kissed  him  with  her  rosy  lips.  At 
night  her  lord  returned,  and  gave  to  Gawaine  a 
deer  which  he  had  slain  in  the  chase;  and  there- 
upon Gawaine  gave  him  in  return  the  kiss  which 
the  lady  had  bestowed  upon  him.  The  lord  smiled, 
and  asked  him  if  he  had  received  any  other  tokens 
of  his  lady's  love,  but  to  that  Gawaine  made  no 
answer. 

The  next  day  the  lord  again  went  forth  with  his 
men  and  hounds,  and  the  lady  once  more  sought 
Gawaine,  to  whom  she  again  spoke  tender  words, 
and  bestowed  on  him  a  second  kiss,  which  he  re- 
ceived with  due  respect  and  courtesy  as  a  token  of 
her  friendship.  At  night  the  master  of  the  castle 
brought  back  with  him  a  wolf's  skin  for  Gawaine, 
who  had  only  the  kiss  to  give  in  exchange.  On 
the  third  day  the  fair  dame  again  attempted  to 
have  him  declare  his  love  for  her,  and  so  marvelous 
was  her  beauty,  that  only  by  dint  of  great  efforts 
did  Gawaine  remain  true  to  his  knightly  vows. 
When  the  lady  found  that  he  would  in  no  wise  re- 
spond to  her  blandishments  save  by  such  cour- 
tesies as  it  was  proper  for  a  knight  to  offer,  she 
drew  from  her  finger  a  rich  ring,  and  begged  him 
to  accept  it  as  a  keepsake;  but  he  excused  himself. 
Then  she  took  off  the  green  girdle  she  wore,  and 
proffered  that  to  him ;  but  it  also  he  refused. 

78 


Jftom  tbe  nDabinoaton 

"Ah,  Sir  Knight,"  quoth  she,  "surely  thou 
wouldst  not  refuse  the  girdle  didst  thou  but  know 
its  worth.  Who  so  weareth  that  girdle  bound 
about  his  body  can  by  no  means  be  wounded  or 
slain." 

When  Gawaine  heard  that,  he  remembered  that 
on  the  next  day  he  was  sworn  to  receive  a  stroke 
from  the  Green  Knight,  and  he  thought  that  the 
girdle  would  then  be  very  welcome  to  him.  So  he 
consented  to  receive  it  from  the  lady.  Then  said 
she,  "I  will  not  give  it  to  thee  unless  thou  promise 
on  thy  knightly  word  to  keep  the  gift  secret  from 
my  lord."  Sir  Gawaine  had  by  this  time  become 
so  eager  for  the  girdle  that  he  promised  as  she  de- 
sired. Then  she  bestowed  it  upon  him,  and  three 
kisses  also.  In  no  long  time  after  this  his  host 
came  back  with  a  great  boar  that  he  had  slain, 
which  he  gave  to  Gawaine,  who  in  return  kissed 
him  thrice,  but,  according  to  his  promise,  said 
nothing  about  the  girdle. 

On  the  following  day,  Gawaine  armed  himself, 
having  first  wrapped  the  lady's  girdle  about  his 
body,  mounted  his  good  horse,  and  set  out  for  the 
Green  Chapel,  having  taken  an  affectionate  leave 
of  the  lord  and  lady  of  the  castle.  The  lord  had 
appointed  one  of  his  men  to  guide  him  to  the 
place,  who  led  him  through  the  oak-wood,  and  past 
huge  mountains  with  their  tops  all  shrouded  in 
mist,  till  they  came  to  the  mouth  of  a  valley  all 
dark  and  desolate.  Therein,  said  the  squire,  was 

79 


TOonfcer  Stories 

the  Green  Chapel;  but  he  himself  would  go  no  far- 
ther, for  it  was  the  most  perilous  place  in  the 
world.  "He  who  dwells  there,"  he  said,  "is  full 
stiff  and  stern,  and  bigger  than  any  four  knights 
in  King  Arthur's  court.  No  man  hath  ever  yet 
been  to  the  Green  Chapel  whom  he  did  not  slay 
by  a  single  blow  of  his  hand.  I  counsel  thee,  there- 
fore, Sir  Knight,  to  quit  this  perilous  quest,  and 
withdraw  thee;  and  if  thou  dost,  I  swear  to  thee 
that  I  will  never  reveal  it." 

But  Gawaine,  bearing  in  mind  his  promise  to  the 
Green  Knight,  and  comforted  also  in  heart  by 
knowing  the  magic  power  of  the  girdle,  would  not 
hearken  to  the  squire,  but  bade  him  farewell,  and 
rode  on  into  the  ravine.  Long  time  he  rode  by 
a  wild  and  rugged  path,  amid  beetling  rocks  and 
huge  leafless  trees,  but  saw  nothing,  till  at  last  he 
came  where  there  was  a  great  cave  in  the  rock, 
and  he  was  aware  of  a  horrible  sound,  like  to  the 
sharpening  of  a  steel  blade  on  a  grindstone,  but 
far  louder.  Nothing  dismayed,  the  knight  called 
out,  "Who  dwelleth  here,  with  whom  I  may  hold 
discourse  ?" 

A  rough  voice  answered,  bidding  him  abide 
where  he  was;  and  presently  forth  from  the  cave 
strode  the  Green  Knight,  with  his  grim  head  again 
on  his  shoulders,  and  carrying  in  his  hand  a  new 
axe  with  a  blade  full  bright  and' keen. 

"I  give  thee  good-morrow,  Knight,"  quoth  he 
to  Gawaine.  "Well  and  truly  hast  thou  kept  thy 

80 


jftom  tbe  fl&abinosion 

time.  Have  now  thy  helm  off,  and  take  thy  pay 
at  once." 

"By  my  faith,"  answered  Gawaine,  "I  do  not  be- 
grudge thee  thy  will." 

Then  he  took  off  his  helm  and  bared  his  neck, 
and  calmly  awaited  the  blow.  The  Green  Knight 
raised  the  axe,  and  brought  it  down  with  so  much 
might  that  it  hissed  as  it  swept  through  the  air, 
but  he  made  it  pass  just  by  Gawaine,  who  shrank 
a  little  as  it  came  by  him,  at  which  the  Green 
Knight  laughed  scornfully. 

"Behold,"  he  said,  "Thou  art  a  Knight  of  the 
Table  Round,  and  yet  showest  fear  before  thou 
hast  felt  harm.  So  did  not  I  when  thou  didst 
strike  me,  and  therefore  must  I  be  the  better 
man." 

"It  is  true,"  said  Gawaine,  "that  I  have  shrunk 
once,  but  I  will  not  shrink  again.  Therefore  strike 
thou,  and  speedily." 

Again  the  Green  Knight  brought  down  the  axe 
close  by  his  neck,  but  Gawaine  moved  not  at  all 
nor  changed  countenance.  So  the  third  time  the 
knight  smote  him  full  on  the  neck,  and  the  axe 
just  drew  blood,  but  no  more.  Then  Gawaine 
drew  his  sword. 

"Have  a  care,"  said  he,  "that  thou  strike  not 
again,  for  my  covenant  with  thee  was  only  to  re- 
ceive one  blow." 

Then  the  other  laughed  loud,  and  when  Gawaine 

81 


TOonfcer  Stories 

looked  at  him,  behold  he  was  no  longer  the  Green 
Knight,  but  his  late  host,  the  lord  of  the  castle. 

"Know  thou,"  said  he,  "that  I  sent  my  lady  to 
thee  to  test  thy  knightly  honor,  and  in  the  main  I 
found  thee  true;  but  thou  sinnedst  a  little  for  love 
of  thy  life  when  thou  didst  take  the  girdle  and 
spoke  nothing  of  it  to  me." 

Then  was  Gawaine  sore  abashed,  and  he  de- 
nounced bitterly  his  own  cowardice  and  covetous- 
ness,  and  took  off  the  girdle  and  threw  it  to  the 
lord  of  the  castle. 

"Nay,"  said  the  other,  "now  that  thou  art  re- 
pentant, I  hold  thee  to  be  as  free  from  dishonor  as 
if  thou  hadst  never  sinned." 

And  he  gave  him  the  girdle  as  a  token  of  his  ad- 
venture, and  invited  him  to  return  again  with  him 
to  the  castle.  This,  however,  Gawaine,  who  was 
still  exceedingly  ashamed,  would  not  do;  but  he 
desired  to  be  remembered  to  the  fair  lady  that  had 
sought  to  beguile  him.  He  thanked  the  lord  for 
the  girdle,  and  said  he  would  wear  it  in  memory 
of  his  good  lady  and  also  of  his  own  fault.  Then 
he  asked  the  other  for  his  name,  and  the  knight 
said  he  was  called  Bernlak  de  Hautdesert,  and  that 
he  served  Morgan  le  Fay.  She  it  was  who  had 
caused  him  to  go  in  the  guise  of  the  Green  Knight 
to  Camelot,  to  test  the  renown  of  the  Round  Table, 
hoping  to  grieve  Arthur  and  Guinevere.  Then  the 
two  parted,  and  Gawaine  rode  back  to  Camelot, 

82 


from  tbc  fiDabinoQion 

where  he  was  joyfully  welcomed,  and  told  all  his 
adventures  even  as  they  have  been  here  set  down. 

This  quaint  tale  is  not  found  in  the  Mabinogion,  but  it 
is  so  similar  in  thought  and  spirit  to  those  stories  that 
I  have  thought  it  well  to  include  it  with  them.  It  is  copied 
from  an  English  publication  with  a  few  slight  changes  to 
adapt  it  more  fully  to  American  youth.  It  is  seen  to  be 
a  real  Arthurian  tale,  though  it  is  not  given  by  Malory 
in  his  story  of  King  Arthur  and  his  Knights  of  the  Round 
Table. 


ti)t 

Chapter  I 


oi 


ANY  years  ago  an  earl  named  Evrawc 
owned  the  earldom  of  the  North.  He 
had  seven  sons;  and  the  youngest  was 
named  Peredur.  Now  Earl  Evrawc  delighted  in 
tournaments  and  combats  and  wars,  and  so  it  hap- 
pened that  in  a  war  he  was  slain  and  six  of  his 
sons  with  him.  His  youngest  son,  Peredur,  was 
not  of  an  age  to  go  to  wars,  otherwise  he  might 
have  been  slain  as  well  as  his  father  and  his 
brothers. 

Now  Peredur's  mother  was  very  anxious  for  fear 
her  younger  son  should  also  delight  in  tourna- 
ments and  wars  and  be  slain  like  his  father  and 
brothers,  so  she  fled  with  him  to  the  wilderness 
and  would  permit  none  to  bear  her  company,  but 
women  and  boys  and  timid  men  that  knew  not  the 
use  of  arms.  And  no  one  dared  to  bring  her  either 
horses  or  arms,  lest  her  son  should  set  his  mind 
upon  them  and  desire  to  be  a  knight.  The  youth 
went  daily  into  the  forest  to  divert  himself  by 
flinging  sticks  and  stones  at  the  trees  and  other 
objects  found  there.  And  thus  he  grew  to  be  a 

84 


from  tbe 

young  man  and  knew  nothing  of  knights  and  the 
arts  of  knighthood. 

One  day  as  it  chanced,  three  knights  came  rid- 
ing along  a  road  that  ran  by  the  borders  of  the 
forest.  These  knights  were  in  pursuit  of  one  who 
had  stolen  some  apples  from  King  Arthur's  court; 
and  one  of  them  was  Owain,  the  son  of  Urien.  As 
Peredur  saw  these  men  he  said  to  his  mother, 

"Mother,  what  are  those  yonder?" 

"They  are  angels,  my  son,"  said  she. 

"By  my  faith,"  said  Peredur,  "I  will  go  and  be- 
come an  angel  with  them." 

So  Peredur  went  to  the  road  and  met  them.  As 
Owain  saw  him  he  said: 

"Young  man,  sawest  thou  a  knight  pass  this  way 
either  to-day  or  yesterday?" 

"I  know  not,"  answered  Peredur,  "what  is  a 
knight?" 

"Why  such  an  one  as  I  am,"  said  Owain. 

As  Peredur  gazed  in  admiration  on  Owain  he 
said,  "If  thou  wilt  tell  me  what  I  ask  thee,  I  will 
tell  thee  that  which  thou  askest  me." 

"Gladly  will  I  do  so,"  replied  Owain. 

"What  is  this?"  said  Peredur,  pointing  to  the 
saddle  on  one  of  the  horses. 

"That  is  a  saddle,"  said  Owain. 

"What  is  this?"  he  said,  pointing  to  the  bridle 
rein. 

"That  is  a  bridle,"  said  Owain. 

Then  he  asked  Owain  about  all  the  accoutre- 

85 


TOottoer  Stones 

ments  which  he  saw  upon  the  men  and  the  horses, 
and  about  the  arms,  and  what  they  were  for,  and 
how  they  were  used.  And  Owain  showed  him  all 
these  things  fully,  and  told  him  what  use  was  made 
of  them. 

"Go  forward,"  said  Peredur,  "for  I  saw  such  an 
one  as  thou  dost  enquire  for,  and  I  will  follow 
thee." 

Then  Peredur  returned  to  his  mother  and  said 
to  her,  "Mother,  they  were  not  angels,  but  honor- 
able knights." 

At  this  his  mother's  heart  was  so  full  of  grief 
and  surprise  that  she  swooned  away.  Then  Pere- 
dur went  to  the  stables  where  they  kept  the  horses 
that  carried  firewood  from  the  forest  and  that 
brought  meat  and  drink  from  the  country  around 
the  forest  to  his  mother's  house.  Selecting  a 
bony  piebald  horse,  which  seemed  to  him  the 
strongest  of  them,  he  pressed  a  pack  into  the  form 
of  a  saddle,  and  with  twisted  twigs  he  imitated  the 
trappings  which  he  had  seen  upon  the  horses  of 
Owain.  And  when  he  came  again  to  his  mother, 
the  Countess,  he  found  that  she  had  recovered  from 
her  swoon,  but  her  heart  was  full  of  grief  for  what 
Peredur  had  seen  and  heard. 

"My  son,"  said  the  Countess,  "desirest  thou  to 
ride  forth  like  the  knights  which  thou  didst  see?" 

"Yes,  with  thy  leave,"  he  replied. 

"Wait,  then,"  she  said,  "that  I  may  counsel  thee 
before  thou  goest." 

86 


ITtom  tbe  flDabtnogton 

"I  will  do  so  willingly,"  he  replied,  "but  please 
speak  quickly." 

"Then,"  she  said,  "go  forward  to  the  court  of 
King  Arthur,  where  there  are  the  best  and  the 
boldest  and  the  most  bountiful  of  men.  And  re- 
member that  wherever  thou  seest  a  church,  re- 
peat there  thy  Paternoster  unto  it.  And  if  thou 
hear  an  outcry  of  one  in  distress,  proceed  toward  it, 
especially  if  it  be  the  outcry  of  a  woman.  And  if 
thou  see  meat  and  drink  and  need  them,  and  no 
one  has  the  kindness  or  courtesy  to  give  them  to 
thee,  take  them  thyself.  And  if  thou  find  a  fair 
jewel  take  it  and  give  it  to  another,  for  thus  thou 
shall  obtain  praise  of  men.  And  if  thou  see  a  fair 
woman,  pay  thy  court  to  her  with  all  courtesy;  for 
thus  thou  wilt  win  esteem  and  worship." 

With  this  advice  Peredur  bade  his  mother  adieu 
and  mounted  his  horse,  and  taking  a  handful  of 
sharp  pointed  forks  in  his  hand,  he  rode  forth 
towards  King  Arthur's  court.  After  two  days 
journey  he  came  to  a  vast  wildwood,  and  far  with- 
in the  wood  he  saw  a  fair  even  glade,  and  in  the 
glade  he  saw  a  tent,  and  the  tent  seeming  to  him 
to  be  a  church,  he  said  his  Paternoster  unto  it. 
Then  he  went  towards  the  tent,  and  found  the  door 
of  the  tent  was  open.  Looking  in  the  tent  he  saw 
a  golden  chair  near  the  door,  and  on  the  chair  sat 
a  lovely  auburn-haired  maiden,  with  a  golden 
frontlet  on  her  forehead,  and  sparkling  stones  in 
the  frontlet,  and  a  large  gold  ring  on  her  hand. 


TOonfcer 

Then  Peredur  dismounted  and  went  within  the 
tent;  and  the  maiden  seemed  glad  at  his  coming, 
and  bade  him  welcome. 

At  the  entrance  of  the  tent  he  saw  food  and  two 
full  flasks  of  wine,  and  two  loaves  of  fine  wheaten 
flour,  and  collops  of  the  flesh  of  the  wild  boar. 

"My  mother  told  me,"  said  Peredur,  "that  when 
I  saw  meat  and  drink  I  should  take  it." 

"Take  the  meat,  and  welcome,  chieftain,"  said 
the  maiden. 

So  Peredur  took  half  of  the  meat  and  the  wine 
for  himself,  and  left  the  other  half  for  the  maiden. 
And  when  he  had  finished  eating,  he  bent  upon  his 
knee  before  the  maiden. 

"My  mother  told  me,  also,"  said  he,  "that  when 
I  saw  a  fair  jewel,  to  take  it." 

"Do  so,  if  you  wish,"  said  she. 

So  Peredur  took  the  ring  that  was  on  the 
maiden's  hand  and  then  mounted  his  horse  and 
proceeded  on  his  journey. 

Soon  after  this,  behold  the  knight  came  to  whom 
the  tent  belonged;  and  he  was  the  lord  of  the  glade. 
And  seeing  the  track  of  a  horse,  he  said  to  the 
maiden,  "Tell  me  who  has  been  here  since  I  was 
absent." 

"A  man,"  said  she,  "with  wonderful  demeanor." 
And  she  described  to  him  the  appearance  and  the 
conduct  of  Peredur. 

"Did  he  offer  thee  any  wrong  ?"  said  the  lord. 

88 


fftom  tbe  nDabinogion 

"No,"  answered  the  maiden,  "by  my  faith  he  did 
not." 

"By  my  faith  I  do  not  believe  thee,"  he  replied; 
"and  until  I  can  meet  him  and  revenge  the  insult 
he  has  done  me,  thou  shalt  not  remain  two  nights 
in  the  same  house."  And  the  knight  arose,  and 
set  forth  to  seek  Peredur. 

Meanwhile,  Peredur  journeyed  on  toward  King 
Arthur's  court.  But  before  he  reached  it,  another 
knight  had  been  there  who  gave  a  ring  of  thick 
gold  at  the  door  of  the  gate  to  the  porter  for  hold- 
ing his  horse,  and  went  into  the  hall,  where  King 
Arthur  and  his  household  and  Queen  Guinevere 
and  her  maidens  were  assembled.  As  he  entered 
the  page  of  the  chamber  was  serving  Queen 
Guinevere  with  a  golden  goblet.  Striding  quickly 
up  to  the  queen  the  knight  dashed  the  liquor  that 
was  therein  upon  her  face  and  said,  "If  any  have 
the  boldness  to  dispute  the  goblet  with  me  and  to 
revenge  this  insult  to  Queen  Guinevere,  let  him 
follow  me  to  the  meadow,  and  there  will  I  await 
him." 

So  saying  the  knight  mounted  his  horse  and 
rode  to  the  meadow.  And  all  the  household  hung 
down  their  heads,  lest  any  of  them  should  be  re- 
quested to  go  and  avenge  the  insult  to  Queen 
Guinevere.  For  they  thought  no  one  would  have 
dared  to  do  such  a  deed  unless  he  was  possessed 
with  magic  powers,  so  that  he  could  take  ven- 
gence  upon  any  one  who  dared  to  encounter  him. 

89 


TOonfcer  Stories 

Just  then,  behold,  Peredur  entered  the  hall  on 
the  bony  piebald  horse  with  the  uncouth  trappings 
upon  it;  and  in  this  way  he  traversed  the  whole 
length  of  the  hall.  In  the  centre  of  the  hall  stood 
the  seneschal,  Sir  Kay. 

"Tell  me,  tall  man,"  said  Peredur,  "is  that  King 
Arthur  yonder?" 

"What  wouldst  thou  with  King  Arthur?"  asked 
Kay. 

"My  mother  told  me,"  replied  Peredur,  "to  go 
to  Arthur  and  receive  the  honor  of  knighthood." 

"By  my  faith,"  answered  Kay,  "thou  art  all  too 
meanly  equipped  with  horse  and  with  arms  to  re- 
ceive this  honor."  Thereupon  the  youth  was  per- 
ceived by  all  the  household,  and  amused  at  his  odd 
appearance,  they  laughed  at  him  and  threw  sticks 
upon  him. 

Then,  behold,  a  dwarf  came  forward,  who  with 
a  female  dwarf  had  been  a  full  year  at  King  Ar- 
thur's court;  and  neither  of  them  had  spoken  a 
single  word  to  anyone.  When  the  dwarf  beheld 
Peredur  he  said,  "Ha,  ha !  the  welcome  of  Heaven 
be  unto  thee,  goodly  Peredur,  son  of  Evrawc,  the 
chief  of  warriors  and  the  flower  of  knighthood." 

"Truly,"  said  Kay,  speaking  to  the  dwarf,  "thou 
art  ill  taught  to  remain  mute  at  King  Arthur's 
court  a  year  with  choice  of  society;  and  now,  be- 
fore the  face  of  King  Arthur  and  his  household  to 
declare  such  a  man  as  this  chief  of  warriors  and  the 
flower  of  knighthood."  And  he  gave  the  dwarf 

90 


fftom  tbe  n&abinoaion 

such  a  box  on  the  ear  that  he  fell  senseless  to 
the  ground. 

At  this  the  female  dwarf  cried  out,  "Ha,  ha! 
goodly  Peredur,  son  of  Evrawc;  the  welcome  of 
Heaven  be  unto  thee,  flower  of  knights  and  the 
light  of  chivalry." 

"Of  a  truth,  maiden,"  said  Kay,  "thou  art  ill  bred 
to  remain  mute  for  a  year  at  the  court  of  King 
Arthur,  and  then  speak  as  thou  dost  of  such  a  man 
as  this."  And  Kay  kicked  her  with  his  foot,  so 
that  she  fell  to  the  ground  senseless. 

Then  said  Peredur,  "Tall  man,  show  me  which 
is  King  Arthur." 

"Hold  thy  peace,"  said  Kay,  "and  go  after  the 
knight  who  went  hence  to  the  meadow  and  take 
from  him  the  goblet,  and  overthrow  him,  and  pos- 
sess thyself  of  his  horse  and  arms,  and  then  thou 
shalt  receive  the  order  of  knighthood." 

"I  will  do  so,  tall  man,"  said  Peredur.  So  he 
turned  his  horse's  head  toward  the  meadow.  And 
when  he  came  there  the  knight  was  riding  up  and 
down,  proud  of  his  strength  and  valor  and  noble 
mien. 

"Tell  me,"  said  the  knight,  "didst  thou  see  any 
one  coming  after  me  from  the  court?" 

"The  tall  man  that  was  there,"  said  Peredur, 
"desired  me  to  come  and  overthow  thee,  and  to 
take  from  thee  the  goblet  and  thy  horse  and  armor 
for  myself." 

"Go  back  to  the  court,"  said  the  knight,  "and 

91 


TKttonfcer  Storte0 

tell  King  Arthur  either  to  come  himself,  or  to  send 
some  other  to  fight  with  me;  and  unless  he  do  so 
quickly  I  will  not  wait  for  him." 

"By  my  faith,"  said  Peredur,  "choose  thou 
whether  it  shall  be  willingly  or  unwillingly,  but  I 
will  have  the  horse  and  the  arms  and  the  goblet." 

Upon  this  the  knight  ran  at  him  furiously,  and 
struck  him  a  violent  blow  with  the  shaft  of  his  spear 
between  the  neck  and  shoulder. 

"Ha,  ha!  lad,"  said  Peredur,  "my  mother's  ser- 
vants were  not  used  to  play  with  me  in  this  wise; 
therefore  thus  will  I  play  with  thee."  And  there- 
upon he  struck  him  with  a  sharp-pointed  fork,  and 
it  hit  him  in  the  eye  and  came  out  at  the  back  of 
the  neck,  so  that  he  instantly  fell  down  lifeless. 

When  Peredur  left  the  court,  Owain  said  to  Kay, 
"Verily  thou  wert  ill-advised  when  thou  didst  send 
that  madman  after  the  insulting  knight.  For  one 
of  two  things  must  befall  him;  he  must  be  either 
overthrown  or  slain.  If  he  is  overthrown,  the 
knight  will  be  counted  by  him  to  be  an  honorable 
person  of  the  court,  and  an  eternal  disgrace  will 
it  be  to  King  Arthur  and  his  warriors.  And  if  he 
is  slain,  the  disgrace  will  be  the  same;  and  more- 
over the  sin  will  be  upon  him;  therefore  will  I  go 
and  see  what  has  befallen  him." 

So  Owain  went  to  the  meadow,  and  there  he 
saw  Peredur  dragging  the  man  about.  "What  art 
thou  doing,"  said  Owain. 

92 


fftom  tbc 

"This  iron  coat  will  never  come  off  him,  at  least 
not  by  my  efforts,"  answered  Peredur. 

Then  Owain  unfastened  the  armor,  saying, 
"Here,  my  good  soul,  is  a  horse  and  armor  better 
than  thine.  Take  them  joyfully,  and  come  with 
me  to  King  Arthur  to  receive  the  order  of  knight- 
hood, for  thou  dost  merit  it." 

"May  I  never  show  my  face  again,  if  I  go,"  said 
Peredur.  "But  take  thou  the  goblet  to  Queen 
Guinevere  and  tell  King  Arthur  that  wherever  I 
am  I  will  be  his  vassal  and  will  do  him  what  profit 
and  service  I  am  able.  And  say  that  I  will  not 
come  to  court  until  I  have  encountered  the  tall 
man  that  is  there,  to  revenge  the  injury  he  did  to 
the  dwarf  and  the  dwarfess." 

So  Owain  went  back  to  the  court  and  related  all 
these  things  to  King  Arthur  and  Queen  Guinevere 
and  to  all  the  household;  and  they  were  all  amazed 
at  his  words  and  at  the  valiant  deeds  of  the  young 
knight. 

And  Peredur  rode  forward;  and  as  he  proceeded 
behold  a  knight  met  him. 

"Whence  comest  thou?"  said  the  knight. 

"I  come  from  King  Arthur's  court,"  replied 
Peredur. 

"Art  thou  one  of  his  men?"  said  the  knight. 

"Yes,  by  my  faith,"  he  answered. 

"Well,  I  have  always  been  King  Arthur's  en- 
emy," said  the  knight,  "and  all  such  of  his  men  that 
I  have  ever  encountered  I  have  slain."  So  saying 

93 


Monger  Stories 

he  rushed  upon  Peredur,  who  met  him  right  val- 
iantly, and  it  was  not  long  before  Peredur  brought 
him  to  the  ground.  Then  the  knight  besought  his 
mercy. 

"Mercy  shalt  thou  have,"  said  Peredur,  "if  thou 
wilt  make  oath  to  me  that  thou  wilt  go  to  King 
Arthur's  court,  and  tell  him  that  it  was  I  that  over- 
threw thee,  for  the  honor  of  his  service;  and  say 
that  I  will  never  come  to  his  court  until  I  have 
avenged  the  insult  offered  to  the  dwarf  and  the 
dwarfess." 

The  knight,  glad  to  be  released  on  such  easy 
terms,  willingly  pledged  him  his  faith  to  do  as  he 
was  bidden,  and  then  proceeded  to  the  court  of 
King  Arthur,  and  said  as  he  had  promised  and  con- 
veyed the  threat  to  Kay. 

Again  Peredur  rode  forward ;  and  within  a  week 
he  encountered  sixteen  knights  and  overthrew 
them  all.  And  they  all  went  to  King  Arthur's 
court,  taking  with  them  the  same  message  which 
the  first  knight  had  conveyed  from  Peredur,  and 
the  same  threat  which  he  had  sent  to  Kay.  And 
thereupon  Kay  was  reproved  by  King  Arthur,  at 
which  Kay  was  greatly  grieved. 


CHAPTER  II 

HOW   PEREDUR   RESCUED   A   FAIR   LADY 

AND  Peredur  rode  forward  until  he  came  to 
a  lake  at  the  shore  of  which  was  a  fair 
castle.  On  the  border  of  the  lake  he 
saw  a  venerable  hoary-headed  man,  clothed  in  vel- 
vet and  sitting  upon  a  velvet  cushion.  When  the 
aged  man  saw  Peredur  approaching  he  arose  and 
went  toward  the  castle;  and  Peredur  rode  on  to 
the  palace  and  as  the  door  was  opened  he  entered 
the  hall.  There  he  saw  the  aged  man  seated  upon 
a  cushion  and  a  large  blazing  fire  burning  before 
him. 

The  man  asked  Peredur  to  come  and  sit  upon 
the  cushion  with  him;  and  they  sat  there  and  con- 
versed together.  When  it  was  time,  the  tables 
were  laid,  and  they  went  to  meat.  When  they  had 
finished  their  meal,  the  man  asked  Peredur  if  he 
knew  well  how  to  fight  with  the  sword. 

To  this  the  youth  replied  "I  know  not,  but  were 
I  to  be  taught,  doubtless  I  should  learn." 

"Whoever  can  play  well  with  the  cudgel  and 
shield  will  also  be  able  to  fight  with  the  sword," 
said  the  man. 

Now  the  man  had  two  sons;  the  one  had  yellow 

95 


Monger  Stories 

hair  and  the  other  auburn  hair.  And  the  aged 
man  said  to  his  sons,  "Arise,  youths,  and  play  with 
the  cudgel  and  the  shield,"  and  so  they  did. 

And  after  they  had  played  awhile  the  man  said, 
"Which  of  the  youths  thinkest  thou  plays  the  bet- 
ter?" 

"I  think,"  said  Peredur,  "that  the  yellow  haired 
youth  could  draw  blood  from  the  other,  if  he 
chose." 

"Arise  thou  then  and  take  the  cudgel  and  the 
shield  from  the  hand  of  the  youth  with  the  auburn 
hair,  and  draw  blood  from  the  yellow  haired  youth 
if  thou  canst,"  said  the  man. 

So  Peredur  arose  and  went  to  play  with  the  yel- 
low haired  youth;  and  he  lifted  up  his  arm  and 
struck  him  such  a  mighty  blow  that  his  brow  fell 
over  his  eye  and  the  blood  gushed  forth. 

"Ah,  my  life,"  said  the  man.  "Come  now  and 
sit  down  by  me,  for  I  see  that  thou  wilt  become 
the  best  fighter  with  the  sword  on  this  island.  I 
am  thy  uncle,  thy  mother's  brother;  and  thou 
shalt  live  with  me  awhile  to  learn  the  manners  and 
customs  of  different  countries,  and  such  gentleness 
and  noble  bearing  as  doth  become  a  knight.  Leave 
thou  the  habits  of  thy  youth,  and  I  will  be  thy 
teacher;  and  I  will  raise  thee  to  the  rank  of  knight 
from  this  time  forward."  And  so  his  uncle  taught 
him  many  acts  of  knightly  gentleness  and  courtesy. 

Soon  after  Peredur  took  his  horse  and  with  his 
uncle's  permission  rode  forth  again.  And  he  came 

96 


ffrom  tbe  nDabiuogton 

to  a  vast  desert  wood,  and  on  the  further  side  of 
the  wood  was  a  meadow,  and  on  the  further  side 
of  the  meadow  was  a  large  castle.  Thither  he 
bent  his  way  and  found  the  gate  open  and  went 
into  the  hall.  And  there  he  beheld  a  stately  hoary- 
headed  man  sitting  on  one  side  of  the  hall  with 
many  pages  around  him,  and  the  man  arose  to  re- 
ceive Peredur.  And  they  placed  him  beside  the 
owner  of  the  palace.  Then  they  talked  together 
for  awhile,  and  when  it  was  time  to  eat  they  caused 
Peredur  to  sit  beside  the  nobleman  during  the  re- 
past. 

When  they  had  eaten  as  much  as  they  desired, 
the  nobleman  asked  Peredur  whether  he  could 
fight  with  a  sword. 

"Were  I  to  receive  instruction,"  said  Peredur, 
"I  think  I  could." 

Now  there  was  on  the  floor  of  the  hall  a  huge 
staple  of  iron,  as  large  as  a  warrior  could  grasp. 
"Take  that  sword,"  said  the  man,"  and  strike  the 
iron  staple." 

Then  Peredur  arose  and  took  the  sword  and 
struck  the  staple,  so  that  he  cut  it  in  two;  and  the 
sword  broke  into  two  parts  also. 

"Place  the  two  parts  together  and  reunite 
them,"  said  the  man. 

So  Peredur  placed  them  together,  and  they  be- 
came united  as  before.  And  a  second  time  he 
struck  upon  the  staple,  so  that  both  it  and  the 
sword  broke  in  two,  and  as  before  he  reunited 

97 


THHonfcer  Stories 

them.  And  the  third  time  he  gave  a  like  blow 
and  placed  the  broken  parts  together,  but  neither 
the  staple  nor  the  sword  would  reunite  as  before. 

Then  the  man  said,  "Youth,  come  now  and  sit 
down,  and  my  blessing  be  upon  thee.  Thou  fight- 
est  better  with  the  sword  than  any  man  in  the 
kingdom,  and  when  thou  art  older  and  hast  at- 
tained to  thy  full  power,  none  will  be  able  to  con- 
tend with  thee." 

"I  am  thy  uncle,"  he  said,  "and  brother  to  the 
man  in  whose  house  thou  didst  stay  the  night  be- 
fore." 

Then  Peredur  and  his  uncle  discoursed  to- 
gether; and  as  they  talked  there  came  two  youths 
into  the  hall  bearing  a  spear  of  mighty  size,  with 
three  streams  of  blood  flowing  from  the  point  to 
the  ground.  When  all  the  company  saw  this  they 
began  wailing  and  lamenting.  And  when  the 
clamor  had  a  little  subsided,  behold  two  maidens 
entered  with  a  large  salver  between  them,  on 
which  was  a  man's  head  surrounded  by  a  profusion 
of  blood.  And  there  was  again  a  great  outcry,  but 
at  length  they  were  all  silent.  And  when  it  was 
time  that  they  should  sleep,  Peredur  was  led  into 
a  fair  chamber  where  he  spent  the  night. 

The  next  day,  with  his  uncle's  permission,  Pere- 
dur rode  forth.  And  he  came  to  a  wood,  and  far 
within  the  wood  he  heard  a  loud  cry,  and  he  saw 
a  beautiful  woman  with  auburn  hair,  and  a  horse 
with  a  saddle  upon  it  standing  near  her,  and  a 


ITrom  tbe  fDabtnooion 

corpse  by  her  side.  As  she  strove  to  place  the 
body  of  the  knight  upon  the  horse,  it  fell  to  the 
ground,  and  thereupon  she  made  great  lamenta- 
tion. 

"Tell  me,  sister,"  said  Peredur,  "wherefore  art 
thou  bewailing?" 

"Oh!  accursed  Peredur!  Little  pity  has  my  ill 
fortune  ever  met  with  from  thee." 

"Wherefore,"  said  Peredur,  "am  I  accursed?" 

"Because  thou  wast  the  cause  of  thy  mother's 
death;  for  when  thou  didst  ride  forth  against  her 
will,  anguish  seized  upon  her  heart,  so  that  she 
died;  and  therefore  thou  art  accursed.  And  the 
dwarf  and  the  dwarfess  that  thou  sawest  at  Ar- 
thur's court  were  the  dwarfs  of  thy  father  and 
mother.  I  am  thy  foster  sister,  and  this  was  my 
wedded  husband,  and  he  was  slain  by  the  knight 
that  is  in  the  glade  of  the  wood.  And  do  not  thou 
go  near  him,  lest  thou  shouldst  be  slain  by  him 
likewise." 

"My  sister,"  answered  Peredur,  "thou  dost  re- 
proach me  wrongfully;  for  through  my  remaining 
so  long  amongst  you  I  shall  scarcely  be  able  to 
vanquish  him;  and  had  I  continued  longer  with  you 
it  would  have  been  impossible  for  me  to  succeed. 
Cease  therefore  thy  lamenting,  and  I  will  bury  the 
body  of  thy  husband  and  then  go  in  quest  of  the 
knight  and  see  if  I  can  do  vengeance  upon  him." 

When  he  had  buried  the  body,  they  went  to  the 
place  where  the  knight  was,  and  found  him  riding 

99 


TOonfcer  Stories 

proudly  along  the  glade;  and  he  inquired  of  Pere- 
dur  whence  he  came. 

"I  came  from  King  Arthur's  court,"  said  Pere- 
dur. 

"Art  thou  one  of  King  Arthur's  men?"  asked 
the  knight. 

"Yes,  by  my  faith,"  said  Peredur. 

Then  without  further  parlance  they  fell  to,  and 
immediately  Peredur  overthrew  the  knight,  and 
he  besought  mercy  of  Peredur. 

"Mercy  shalt  thou  have  upon  these  terms,"  said 
Peredur,  "that  thou  take  this  woman  in  marriage, 
and  do  her  all  honor  and  reverence,  and  go  to 
King  Arthur's  court  and  tell  him  that  it  was  I  that 
sent  you,  and  tell  him  I  never  will  come  to  his 
court  again  until  I  have  met  the  tall  man  that  is 
there  and  taken  vengeance  upon  him  for  his  insult 
to  the  dwarf  and  the  dwarfess." 

So  the  knight  provided  the  lady  with  a  horse  and 
garments  suitable  to  her,  and  took  her  with  him 
to  King  Arthur's  court.  And  he  told  King  Arthur 
all  that  had  occurred,  and  gave  the  defiance  to 
Kay.  And  King  Arthur  and  all  his  household  re- 
proved Kay  for  having  driven  such  a  youth  as 
Peredur  from  his  court. 

And  Owain  said,  "This  youth  will  never  come 
into  the  court  until  Kay  has  gone  forth  from  it." 

"By  my  faith,"  said  King  Arthur,  "I  will  search 
all  the  deserts  in  the  Island  of  Britain,  until  I  find 

100 


fftom  tbe  flDalrinoofon 

Peredur,  and  then  let  him  and  his  adversary  do 
their  utmost  to  each  other." 

Then  again  Peredur  rode  forward,  and  came  to 
a  desert  wood,  at  the  upper  end  of  which  he  saw 
a  great  castle,  wherein  were  many  strong  towers. 
So  he  rode  to  the  castle  and  entered  the  hall,  and 
there  he  saw  eighteen  youths,  lean  and  red-headed, 
each  of  the  same  height  and  aspect,  and  of  the 
same  dress.  And  they  were  all  well  skilled  in  cour- 
tesy and  in  service. 

The  youths  disarrayed  him  and  then  sat  down 
to  discourse  with  him.  Thereupon,  behold  five 
maidens  came  from  the  chamber  into  the  hall;  and 
Peredur  thought  that  he  had  never  seen  any  one 
so  fair  as  the  chief  of  the  maidens.  Her  skin  was 
whiter  than  the  bloom  of  crystal,  and  her  hair  and 
eyebrows  were  blacker  than  jet,  and  on  her  cheeks 
were  two  red  spots,  redder  than  whatever  is  red- 
dest. The  maiden  welcomed  Peredur,  and  put 
her  arms  about  his  neck,  and  made  him  sit  down 
beside  her.  And  when  they  went  to  meat  Peredur 
observed  that  the  maiden  wished  to  give  him  more 
of  the  food  and  liquor  than  was  given  to  any  other. 

When  it  was  time  to  sleep,  a  chamber  was  pre- 
pared for  Peredur,  and  he  went  to  rest.  Then  the 
young  men  said  to  the  fairest  of  the  maidens  that 
she  should  go  to  the  chamber  and  offer  to  become 
the  wife  of  the  youth.  But  she  replied  that  this 
would  be  unfitting,  unless  she  first  should  be 
wooed  by  him.  To  this  the  youths  replied  that  un- 

IOI 


Waonber  Storied 

less  she  should  do  as  they  had  said,  they  would 
leave  her  with  her  enemies  to  do  with  her  as  they 
would.  Then,  through  fear,  the  maiden  went  forth, 
and  shedding  many  tears  proceeded  to  the  cham- 
ber where  Peredur  was  sleeping.  At  the  voice  of 
her  weeping,  Peredur  awoke  and  said, 

"Tell  me,  my  sister,  wherefore  dost  thou  weep?" 

"I  will  tell  thee,  lord,"  she  answered. 

Then  she  told  him  how  her  father  had  possessed 
this  palace  and  one  of  the  best  earldoms  in  the 
kingdom,  and  that  the  son  of  another  earl  sought 
her  for  a  wife,  and  her  father  would  not  give  her 
against  her  will ;  but  now  that  her  father  was  dead, 
the  young  earl  had  made  war  upon  her  and  taken 
all  her  possessions  except  the  palace  in  which  they 
were,  and  that  to-morrow  the  earl  was  to  come 
against  the  palace  with  all  his  forces. 

"And  if  I  fall  into  his  power,"  she  said,  "my  fate 
will  be  no  better  than  to  be  given  over  to  the 
grooms  of  his  horses.  Therefore  I  come  to  place 
myself  in  thy  hands  that  thou  mayest  succor  me, 
either  by  taking  me  hence  or  by  defending  me 
here  as  may  seem  best  unto  thee." 

When  he  heard  this  Peredur  said,  "Go,  my  sis- 
ter, and  sleep;  nor  will  I  depart  from  thee  until 
I  prove  whether  I  can  assist  thee  or  not." 

Then  the  maiden  went  again  to  rest,  and  the 
next  morning  she  came  again  to  Peredur  and  sa- 
luted him. 

I O2 


jftom  tbe 

"Heaven  prosper  thee,"  said  Peredur,  "but  what 
tidings  dost  thou  bring?" 

"None  other,"  she  replied,  "but  that  the  earl 
with  all  his  forces  has  alighted  at  the  gate." 

"Truly,"  said  Peredur,  "let  my  horse  be  made 
ready." 

So  his  horse  was  accoutred,  and  he  mounted 
it  and  sallied  forth  to  the  meadow.  There  he  saw 
a  knight  riding  proudly  along  the  meadow,  having 
raised  the  signal  for  battle.  Then  Peredur  rode 
forward  and  met  him,  and  with  his  spear  threw 
him  over  his  horse's  crupper  to  the  ground. 

Near  the  close  of  day,  one  of  the  chief  knights 
came  to  fight  with  him,  and  he  overthrew  him  also 
so  that  he  besought  mercy. 

Then  said  Peredur,  "Who  art  thou?" 

"Verily,"  said  he,  "I  am  master  of  the  house- 
hold to  the  Earl." 

"How  much  of  the  maiden's  possessions  is  there 
in  thy  power?" 

"The  third  part,  verily,"  he  replied. 

"Then,"  said  Peredur,  "restore  to  her  the  third 
part  of  her  possessions  in  full,  and  all  the  profit 
thou  hast  made  of  it,  and  offer  to  be  her  captive, 
unless  she  wish  to  take  thy  life." 

This  the  knight  did  forthwith.  And  that  night 
the  maiden  was  right  joyful,  and  they  all  fared 
plenteously. 

The  next  day  Peredur  rode  forth  to  the  meadow, 
and  that  day  he  vanquished  a  multitude  of  the 

103 


"Cdonfccr  Stories 

hosts.  At  the  close  of  day  there  came  riding  in 
the  field  a  proud  and  stately  knight;  and  Peredur 
met  him  and  overthrew  him  so  that  he  besought 
his  mercy. 

"Who  art  thou  ?"  said  Peredur. 

"I  am  the  steward  of  the  palace,"  said  he. 

"And  how  much  of  the  maiden's  possessions  is 
under  thy  control?" 

"One  third  part,"  he  answered. 

"Verily,"  said  Peredur,  "thou  shalt  fully  re- 
store to  the  maiden  her  possessions,  and  moreover 
thou  shalt  give  her  meat  and  drink  for  two  hun- 
dred men  and  their  horses;  and  for  thyself,  thou 
shalt  be  her  captive." 

And  immediately  it  was  done  as  Peredur  had 
ordered. 

On  the  third  day  Peredur  rode  forth  again  to 
the  meadow,  and  vanquished  many  more  than  on 
either  of  the  preceding  days.  And  at  the  close  of 
day,  an  earl  came  to  encounter  him,  and  he  over- 
threw the  earl  so  that  he  besought  mercy. 

"Who  art  thou?"  said  Peredur. 

"I  am  the  Earl,"  he  said;  "I  will  not  conceal  it 
from  thee." 

"Then,"  said  Peredur,  "thou  shalt  restore  the 
whole  of  the  maiden's  earldom,  and  shalt  give  her 
thine  own  earldom  in  addition  thereto,  and  meat 
and  drink  for  three  hundred  men;  and  thou  thy- 
self shalt  remain  in  her  power."  And  thus  it  was 
fulfilled. 

104 


fftom  tbe  flDabinogfon 

And  after  this  Peredur  tarried  three  weeks  in 
the  country,  causing  tribute  and  obedience  to  be 
paid  to  the  maiden,  and  the  government  to  be 
placed  in  her  hands. 

Then  he  said  to  the  maiden,  "Now  with  thy 
leave  I  must  go  hence." 

"Verily,  my  brother,"  replied  the  maiden,  "de- 
sirest  thou  this  ?" 

"Yes,  by  my  faith,"  he  replied,  "and  had  it  not 
been  for  my  love  for  thee,  I  would  not  have  been 
here  so  long." 

"My  soul,"  said  she,  "who  art  thou?" 

"I  am  Peredur,  the  son  of  Evrawc,  and  if  ever 
thou  art  in  trouble  or  in  danger,  acquaint  me  there- 
with, and  if  I  can  I  will  protect  thee." 

And  then  Peredur  rode  forth  again,  leaving  the 
maiden  very  sad  that  she  must  part  with  him,  for 
she  had  hoped  that  he  might  ask  her  to  be  his  bride. 


105 


CHAPTER  III 

HOW  PEREDUR  AVENGED  HIMSELF  ON  SIR  KAY 

NOW  as  Peredur  rode  he  came  to  a  castle. 
And  he  struck  upon  the  gate  with  his 
lance,  and  behold  an  auburn-haired  youth 
opened  the  gate,  and  he  had  the  stature  of  a  war- 
rior and  the  years  of  a  boy.  As  Peredur  came  into 
the  hall,  he  saw  there  a  tall  and  stately  lady  sitting 
in  a  chair,  and  many  hand-maidens  around  her; 
and  the  lady  seemed  happy  at  his  coming.  She 
saluted  him  with  great  courtesy,  and  when  it  was 
time  they  went  to  supper. 

After  their  repast  was  finished,  the  lady  said,  "It 
were  well  for  thee,  chieftain,  to  go  elsewhere  to 
sleep." 

"Wherefore,"  Peredur  said,  "can  I  not  sleep 
here?" 

"Because,"  she  answered,  "nine  sorceresses  are 
in  this  castle,  and  unless  we  can  make  our  escape 
before  daybreak  we  shall  be  slain,  for  already  they 
have  laid  waste  all  the  country  except  this  castle." 

"Behold,"  said  Peredur,  "I  shall  remain  here 
to-night,  and  if  you  are  in  trouble,  I  will  do  you 
what  service  I  can,  but  no  harm  shall  you  receive 
from  me." 

1 06 


Jtom  tbe  flDabfnofltort 

So  they  all  went  to  rest,  and  at  the  break  of  day 
Peredur  heard  a  dreadful  outcry.  And  he  arose 
hastily,  and  went  forth  in  his  vest  and  doublet,  with 
his  sword  about  his  neck;  and  he  saw  a  sorceress 
overtake  one  of  the  watch,  who  cried  out  violently. 
Then  Peredur  attacked  the  sorceress,  and  struck 
her  upon  the  head  with  his  sword  so  that  he  flat- 
tened her  helmet  like  a  dish  upon  her  head. 

At  this  she  cried  out,  "Mercy,  goodly  Peredur, 
son  of  Evrawc,  I  cry  thee  for  mercy." 

"How  knowest  thou,  hag,  that  I  am  Peredur." 

"By  destiny,  and  the  fore-knowledge  that  I  am 
to  suffer  harm  from  thee,"  she  said. 

"Thou  shalt  have  mercy,"  Peredur  replied,  "if 
thou  wilt  pledge  thy  faith  that  thou  wilt  never- 
more injure  the  dominions  of  the  Countess." 

And  Peredur  took  surety  of  this,  and  with  the 
permission  of  the  Countess  he  set  forth  with  the 
sorceress  to  the  palace  of  the  sorceresses.  And 
there  he  remained  for  three  weeks,  and  then  he 
made  a  choice  of  a  horse  and  arms  and  went  his 
way,  and  in  the  evening  he  entered  a  valley,  and  at 
the  head  of  the  valley  he  came  to  a  hermit's  cell, 
and  the  hermit  welcomed  him  gladly,  and  he  spent 
the  night  there.  And  in  the  morning  he  arose,  and 
when  he  went  forth,  behold  a  shower  of  snow 
had  fallen  the  night  before,  and  a  hawk  had  killed 
'a  wild  fowl  in  front  of  the  cell.  The  noise  of  the 
horse  had  scared  the  hawk  away,  and  a  raven  had 
alighted  on  the  bird.  And  Peredur  stood  and 

107 


TOonfcer  Stories 

compared  the  blackness  of  the  raven,  and  the 
whiteness  of  the  snow,  and  the  redness  of  the  blood 
to  the  hair  of  the  lady  he  loved  best,  which  was 
blacker  than  jet,  and  to  her  skin  which  was  whiter 
than  snow,  and  to  the  two  red  spots  upon  her 
cheeks  which  were  redder  than  the  blood  upon 
the  new  fallen  snow. 

Now  King  Arthur  and  his  knights  were  in 
search  of  Peredur;  and  as  they  came  that  way  and 
saw  him  thus  standing  in  thought,  King  Arthur 
said: 

"Know  ye  who  is  the  knight  with  a  long  spear 
that  stands  by  the  brook  up  yonder?" 

"Lord,"  said  one  of  them,  "I  will  go  and  learn 
who  he  is." 

So  the  youth  came  to  the  place  where  Peredur 
was  standing,  and  asked  him  who  he  was  and  why 
he  stood  thus  in  thought.  But  so  intensely  was 
he  thinking  of  the  lady  whom  he  loved  that  Pere- 
dur gave  the  youth  no  answer.  Then  the  youth 
thrust  at  Peredur  with  his  lance;  and  Peredur 
turned  upon  him  and  struck  him  over  his  horse's 
crupper  to  the  ground.  And  after  this,  four  and 
twenty  youths  came  to  him,  and  he  gave  the  same 
reception  to  them  all,  bringing  them  with  a  single 
thrust  to  the  ground. 

Then  came  Kay  and  spoke  to  Peredur  rudely 
and  angrily,  at  which  Peredur  took  him  with  his 
lance  under  the  jaw,  and  cast  him  from  him  with 
a  thrust,  so  that  he  broke  his  arm  and  his  shoulder 

108 


Jtom  tbc 

blade,  and  then  he  rode  over  him  one  and  twenty 
times. 

Now  while  Kay  lay  thus  stunned  with  the  vio- 
lence of  the  pain,  his  horse  returned  to  the  palace 
at  a  wild  and  prancing  pace.  When  the  household 
saw  the  horse  come  back  without  the  rider,  they 
rode  forth  in  haste  to  where  the  encounter  had 
taken  place,  and  there  they  found  Kay,  and  at  first 
they  thought  that  he  was  slain ;  but  afterward  they 
thought  that  if  he  had  a  skillful  physician  he  yet 
might  live.  So  they  brought  Kay  to  King  Arthur's 
tent,  and  the  King  caused  skillful  physicians  to 
care  for  him.  And  King  Arthur  was  grieved  that 
Kay  had  met  with  this  reverse,  for  he  loved  him 
greatly. 

During  all  this  while  Peredur  moved  not  from 
his  meditation,  at  which  they  all  marvelled.  But 
Gawaine  said,  "It  is  not  fitting  that  an  humble 
knight  should  be  disturbed  from  his  thought,  for 
he  may  be  reflecting  on  some  damage  he  hath 
sustained,  or  perhaps  he  may  be  thinking  of  the 
lady  he  best  loves.  And  if  it  seems  best  to  thee, 
Lord  Arthur,  I  will  go  and  speak  to  him  and  ask 
him  courteously  to  come  and  visit  thee." 

At  this  Kay  was  wroth,  and  spoke  angry  and 
spiteful  words,  saying  that  the  knight  was  weary 
with  fighting,  and  to  bring  him  now  would  give 
no  honor  to  Gawaine. 

To  this  Gawaine  replied,  "Thou  mightest  use 
more  pleasant  words,  for  it  behooveth  thee  not 

109 


TOonfcer  Storied 

to  wreak  thy  wrath  upon  me  for  thy  overthrow. 
Methinks  I  shall  bring  the  knight  thither  with  me 
without  breaking  either  my  arm  or  my  shoulder." 

Then  said  King  Arthur  to  Gawaine,  "Thou 
speakest  like  a  wise  and  prudent  man.  Go,  and 
take  enough  of  armor  about  thee,  and  choose  thy 
horse." 

So  Gawaine  accoutered  himself  and  rode  for- 
ward hastily  to  the  place  where  Peredur  was.  And 
Peredur  was  resting  on  the  shaft  of  his  spear,  still 
pondering  the  same  thought.  Gawaine  came  to 
him  without  any  signs  of  hostility,  and  said  to  him, 

"If  I  thought  that  it  would  be  as  agreeable  to 
thee  as  to  me,  I  would  converse  with  thee.  I 
have  also  a  message  from  King  Arthur  unto  thee, 
to  pray  thee  to  come  and  visit  him.  And  two  men 
have  been  before  on  this  errand." 

"That  is  true,"  said  Peredur,  "and  uncourteously 
they  came.  They  attacked  me,  and  I  was  annoyed 
thereat,  for  it  was  not  pleasing  to  me  to  be  drawn 
from  the  thought  that  I  was  in,  for  I  was  thinking 
of  the  lady  whom  best  I  love,  and  she  was  brought 
to  my  mind  as  I  was  looking  upon  the  snow  and 
upon  the  raven,  and  upon  the  drops  of  blood  upon 
the  snow.  And  I  bethought  me  that  her  white- 
ness was  like  that  of  the  snow,  and  the  blackness 
of  her  hair  and  her  eyebrows  like  that  of  the  raven, 
and  that  the  two  red  spots  upon  her  cheeks  were 
like  the  two  drops  of  blood." 

"That  was  not  an  ungentle  thought,"  said  Ga- 

no 


From  the  flDabinogion 

waine,  "and  I  should  marvel  if  it  were  pleasant  to 
thee  to  be  drawn  from  it." 

"Tell  me,"  said  Peredur,  "is  Kay  in  King  Ar- 
thur's court?" 

"He  is,"  replied  Gawain,  "and  behold  he  is  the 
knight  that  fought  thee  last;  and  it  would  have 
been  better  for  him  had  he  not  come,  for  his  arm 
and  his  shoulder  blade  were  broken  with  the  blow 
which  he  had  from  thy  spear." 

"Verily,"  said  Peredur,  "I  am  not  sorry  to  have 
thus  begun  to  avenge  the  insult  to  the  dwarf  and 
dwarfess." 

Then  Gawaine  marvelled  to  hear  him  speak  of 
the  dwarf  and  the  dwarfess.  And  he  approached 
him  and  threw  his  arms  around  his  neck,  and  asked 
him  what  was  his  name. 

"Peredur,  the  son  of  Evrawc,  am  I  called,"  said 
he,  "and  who  art  thou?" 

"I  am  called  Gawaine,"  he  replied. 

"I  am  right  glad  to  meet  with  thee,"  said  Pere- 
dur, "for  in  every  country  where  I  have  been,  I 
have  heard  of  thy  fame  for  prowess  and  upright- 
ness, and  I  solicit  thy  fellowship." 

"Thou  shalt  have  it,  by  my  faith;  and  grant  me 
thine,"  said  he. 

"Gladly  will  I  do  so,"  answered  Peredur. 

So  they  rode  forth  together  joyfully  toward  the 
place  where  King  Arthur  was,  and  when  Kay  saw 
them  coming,  he  said,  "I  knew  that  Gawaine 
needed  not  to  fight  the  knight;  and  it  is  no  wonder 

III 


TOlonber  Stories 

that  he  should  gain  fame,  for  more  can  he  do  by 
his  fair  words,  than  I  by  the  strength  of  my  arm." 

And  Peredur  went  with  Gawaine  to  his  tent, 
and  they  took  off  their  armor,  and  Peredur  put 
on  garments  like  those  that  Gawaine  wore;  and 
then  they  went  together  unto  King  Arthur  and 
saluted  him. 

"Behold,  lord,"  said  Gawaine,  "him  whom  thou 
hast  sought  so  long." 

"Welcome  unto  thee,  chieftain,"  said  King  Ar- 
thur. "With  me  thou  shalt  remain,  and  had  I 
known  thy  valor  had  been  such,  thou  shouldst  not 
have  left  me  as  thou  didst;  nevertheless,  this  was 
predicted  of  thee  by  the  dwarf  and  dwarfess,  whom 
Kay  ill  treated,  and  whom  thou  hast  avenged." 

And  thereupon  there  came  the  Queen  and  her 
hand-maidens;  and  Peredur  saluted  them.  And 
they  were  all  rejoiced  to  see  him,  and  bade  him 
welcome.  And  King  Arthur  did  him  great  honor 
and  respect,  and  they  returned  to  Caerleon. 


112 


CHAPTER  IV 

HOW  PEREDUR  WON  HIS  LADY  LOVE 

ON  the  night  Peredur  came  to  King  Arthur's 
court,  after  the  evening  meal,  he  walked 
in  the  city.  And  behold  there  met  him  a 
fair  maiden  named  Angharad  Law  Evrawc. 

As  Peredur  saw  her,  he  said,  "By  my  faith,  sis- 
ter, thou  art  a  beauteous  and  a  lovely  maiden;  and 
were  it  pleasing  to  thee  I  could  love  thee  above 
all  women." 

"I  pledge  my  faith,"  she  said,  "that  I  do  not  love 
thee,  nor  will  I  ever  do  so." 

"I  also  pledge  my  faith,"  said  Peredur,  "that  I 
will  never  speak  a  word  to  any  Christian  again, 
until  thou  come  to  love  me  above  all  men." 

The  next  day  Peredur  went  forth  by  the  high 
road,  along  a  mountain  ridge,  and  he  saw  a  valley 
of  a  circular  form,  the  confines  of  which  were  rocky 
and  wooded.  And  the  flat  part  of  the  valley  was 
in  meadows,  and  there  were  fields  betwixt  the 
meadows  and  the  wood.  And  in  the  bosom  of  the 
wood  he  saw  large  black  houses  of  uncouth  work- 
manship. And  he  dismounted  and  led  his  horse 
toward  the  wood. 

A  little  way  within  the  wood  he  saw  a  rocky 

113 


TOonber  Stories 

ledge  along  which  the  road  lay.  And  upon  the 
ledge  was  a  lion,  bound  by  a  chain  and  sleeping. 
And  beneath  the  lion  he  saw  a  deep  pit  of  immense 
size,  full  of  the  bones  of  men  and  animals.  And 
Peredur  drew  his  sword  and  struck  the  lion  so 
that  he  fell  into  the  mouth  of  the  pit  and  hung 
there  by  the  chain,  and  with  a  second  blow  he 
struck  the  chain  and  broke  it,  and  the  lion  fell  into 
the  pit. 

Then  Peredur  led  his  horse  over  the  rocky 
ledge,  until  he  came  into  the  valley.  In  the  centre 
of  the  valley  he  saw  a  fine  castle,  and  he  went 
toward  it.  And  in  the  meadow  by  the  castle  he 
beheld  a  huge  gray  man  sitting,  who  was  larger 
than  any  man  he  had  ever  seen  before.  And  two 
young  pages  were  smoothing  the  hilts  of  their 
daggers,  made  of  the  bones  of  the  seahorse.  One  of 
the  pages  had  red  hair,  and  the  other  auburn  hair. 
And  they  went  before  him  to  the  place  where  the 
gray  man  was,  and  Peredur  saluted  him.  And  the 
gray  man  said,  "Disgrace  to  the  beard  of  my  por- 
ter." Then  Peredur  understood  that  the  porter 
was  the  lion. 

And  the  gray  man  and  the  pages  went  together 
unto  the  castle,  and  Peredur  accompanied  them, 
and  he  found  it  a  fair  and  noble  place.  And  they 
proceeded  to  the  hall,  and  the  tables  were  already 
laid,  and  upon  them  was  an  abundance  of  food  and 
liquor.  And  thereupon  he  saw  an  aged  woman 
and  a  young  woman  come  from  the  chambers,  and 

114 


Jftom  tbe  flDabfnosiott 

they  were  the  most  stately  women  he  had  ever 
seen.  Then  they  washed  and  went  to  meat;  and 
the  gray  man  sat  at  the  upper  seat  at  the  end  of 
the  table,  and  the  aged  woman  sat  next  to  him. 
And  Peredur  and  the  maiden  were  placed  together, 
and  the  two  young  pages  served  them. 

As  they  ate  the  maiden  gazed  steadfastly  upon 
Peredur  and  wept.  And  Peredur  asked  the 
maiden  wherefore  she  was  sad  and  weeping.  To 
which  the  maiden  said,  "I  am  sad  that  so  gentle  a 
youth  should  have  so  sad  a  doom  as  awaits  thee 
to-morrow.  Sawest  thou  the  numerous  black 
horses  in  the  bosom  of  the  wood?  All  these  be- 
long to  the  vassals  of  the  gray  man  yonder,  who 
is  my  father.  And  they  are  all  giants;  and  to-mor- 
row they  will  rise  up  against  thee  and  will  slay 
thee.  And  the  Round  Valley  is  this  valley  called." 

"I  thank  thee,  fair  maiden,"  said  Peredur,  "for 
thy  kindness;  and  now  I  ask  wilt  thou  contrive  that 
my  horse  and  arms  shall  be  in  the  same  lodging 
with  me  to-night?" 

"Gladly  will  I  cause  it  to  be  so,"  she  replied,  "if 
I  can." 

When  it  was  time  for  them  to  sleep  rather  than 
carouse,  they  went  to  rest.  And  the  maiden 
caused  Peredur's  horse  and  arms  to  be  in  the  same 
lodging  with  him.  And  the  next  morning  Pere- 
dur heard  a  great  tumult  of  men  and  horses  about 
the  castle.  And  he  arose  and  armed  himself  and 
his  horse,  and  went  to  the  meadow. 

"5 


TOonfcer  Stories 

Then  the  aged  woman  and  the  maiden  came 
to  the  gray  man  and  said,  "Lord,  take  the  word  of 
the  young  man  that  he  will  never  disclose  what  he 
hath  seen  in  this  place,  and  we  will  be  his  sureties 
that  he  keep  it." 

"I  will  not  do  so,  by  my  faith,"  said  the  gray 
man.  "For  we  shall  set  upon  him  and  slay  him." 

So  Peredur  was  compelled  to  fight  with  the 
gray  man  and  his  hosts;  and  toward  evening  he  had 
slain  one-third  of  them  without  receiving  any  hurt 
himself.  Then  said  the  aged  woman  to  the  gray 
man,  "Behold,  many  of  thy  host  have  been  slain 
by  the  youth;  do  thou  therefore  grant  him  mercy." 

"I  will  not  grant  it  by  my  faith,"  said  he. 

The  aged  woman  and  the  fair  maiden  were  upon 
the  battlements  of  the  castle  looking  forth  at  the 
battle;  and  at  that  juncture  Peredur  encountered 
the  yellow  haired  youth  and  slew  him.  At  this  the 
maiden  said,  "Lord,  grant  the  young  man  mercy." 

"That  will  I  not  do,  by  Heaven,"  he  replied. 
Therewith  Peredur  attacked  the  auburn-haired 
youth  and  slew  him  likewise. 

Then  the  maiden  said,  "It  were  better  thou 
hadst  accorded  mercy  to  the  youth  before  he  had 
slain  both  of  thy  sons;  for  now  scarcely  wilt  thou 
thyself  escape  from  him." 

To  this  the  gray  man  replied,  "Go,  maiden,  and 
beseech  the  youth  to  grant  mercy  unto  us,  for 
we  yield  ourselves  into  his  hands." 

So  the  maiden  came  to  the  place  where  Peredur 

116 


Jrom  tbe  flDabinoQion 

was,  and  besought  mercy  for  her  father  and  for 
such  of  his  vassals  as  had  escaped  alive.  "Thou 
shalt  have  it  on  condition,"  said  Peredur,  "that  thy 
father  and  all  that  are  under  him  go  and  render 
homage  to  King  Arthur;  and  tell  him  that  it  was 
his  vassal  Peredur  that  did  him  this  service." 

"This  will  he  do  willingly,"  said  the  maiden. 

"And  you  shall  also  receive  baptism,"  said  Pere- 
dur; "and  I  will  send  to  King  Arthur  and  beseech 
him  to  bestow  this  valley  upon  thee  and  upon  thy 
heirs  after  thee  forever." 

Then  they  went  in,  and  the  gray  man  and  the 
tall  woman  saluted  Peredur.  And  the  gray  man 
said  unto  him,  "Since  I  have  possessed  this  valley 
I  have  not  seen  any  Christian  depart  with  his  life, 
save  thyself.  And  we  will  go  to  do  homage  to 
King  Arthur  and  embrace  his  faith  and  be  bap- 
tized." 

Then  said  Peredur,  "I  render  thanks  to  Heaven 
that  I  have  not  broken  my  vow  to  the  lady  that 
I  love  best,  which  was,  that  I  would  not  speak  one 
word  unto  any  Christian  until  she  gave  me  her 
love." 

That  night  they  tarried  there;  and  the  next  day 
in  the  morning  the  gray  man  and  his  company  set 
forth  to  King  Arthur's  court.  And  they  did 
homage  to  King  Arthur,  and  he  caused  them  to  be 
baptized.  And  the  gray  man  told  King  Arthur 
that  it  was  Peredur  that  had  vanquished  them. 
And  the  King  gave  the  valley  to  the  gray  man 

117 


and  his  company  to  hold  it  as  Peredur  had  be- 
sought. And  with  King  Arthur's  permission,  the 
gray  man  went  back  to  the  Round  Valley. 

And  Peredur  rode  forward  again  the  next  day, 
and  he  traversed  a  vast  tract  of  desert  in  which  no 
dwellings  were.  And  at  length  he  came  to  a  habi- 
tation which  was  mean  and  small.  And  there  he 
heard  that  there  was  a  serpent  that  lay  upon  a 
gold  ring,  and  suffered  none  to  inhabit  the  country 
for  seven  miles  around.  And  Peredur  came  to  the 
place  where  he  heard  the  serpent  was.  And  angrily 
and  furiously  and  desperately  he  fought  with  the 
serpent;  and  at  last  he  killed  it,  and  took  away 
the  ring. 

And  thus  he  continued  for  a  long  time  without 
speaking  a  word  to  any  Christian.  And  therefore 
he  lost  his  color  and  his  aspect  through  extreme 
longing  for  King  Arthur's  court  and  his  com- 
panions and  the  society  of  the  lady  whom  best  he 
loved.  At  length  he  proceeded  forward  to  King 
Arthur's  court,  and  in  the  wood  there  met  him 
King  Arthur's  household  going  on  a  particular  er- 
rand, with  Kay  at  their  head.  And  Peredur  knew 
them  all,  but  none  of  the  household  recognized 
him. 

Then  Kay  spoke  to  him  saying,  "Whence  com- 
est  thou,  chieftain  ?"  And  thus  he  asked  him  twice 
and  three  times,  but  Peredur  answered  him  not. 
And  then  Kay  thrust  him  through  the  thigh  with 
his  lance;  and  lest  he  should  be  compelled  to  speak 

118 


from  tbe  HDabinogfon 

and  thus  to  break  his  vow,  he  went  on  without 
stopping. 

Then  said  Gawaine,  "I  declare  to  Heaven,  Kay, 
that  thou  hast  acted  ill  in  committing  such  an  out- 
rage on  a  youth  like  this  who  cannot  speak." 

And  Gawaine  returned  to  King  Arthur's  court 
and  said  to  Queen  Guinevere,  "Seest  thou  how 
wicked  an  outrage  Kay  has  committed  upon  the 
youth,  who  cannot  speak;  for  Heaven's  sake  and 
for  mine,  I  pray  thee,  cause  him  to  have  medical 
care  before  I  come  back,  and  I  will  repay  thee  the 
charge." 

And  before  the  men  returned  from  the  errand, 
a  strange  knight  came  to  the  meadow  beside  King 
Arthur's  palace,  to  dare  some  one  to  encounter 
with  him.  And  his  challenge  was  accepted;  and 
Peredur  fought  with  him  and  overthrew  him.  And 
for  a  week  he  overthrew  one  knight  every  day. 
And  thus  for  a  long  while  every  knight  that  came 
that  way  and  offered  battle  was  overthrown  by 
Peredur.  And  yet  he  never  spoke  and  for  this  he 
went  by  the  name  of  the  Dumb  Youth.  And  no 
one  knew  who  he  was. 

And  behold  one  day  Angharad  Law  Evrawc  met 
him.  Pleased  with  his  comely  appearance  and 
knowing  his  many  brave  deeds,  she  said,  "I  declare 
to  Heaven,  chieftain,  woeful  is  it  that  thou  canst 
not  speak;  for  couldst  thou  speak,  I  would  love 
thee  best  of  all  men;  and  by  my.  faith,  even  though 
thou  canst  not  speak,  I  do  love  thee  above  all." 

119 


Wicmfcer  Stories 

"Heaven  reward  thee,  my  sister,"  said  Peredur, 
"for  by  my  faith  I  do  also  love  thee.  And  I  have 
kept  my  word  never  to  speak  to  any  Christian  un- 
til thou  givest  me  thy  love." 

Thereupon  it  was  known  that  he  was  Peredur. 
And  thus  he  won  the  fair  Angharad  for  his  bride. 
And  for  many  days  he  remained  at  King  Arthur's 
court,  having  punished  Kay  for  his  insult  to  the 
dwarf  and  dwarf  ess;  and  there  he  held  fellowship 
with  Gawaine  and  with  Owain  the  son  of  Urien, 
and  with  all  the  household  of  the  King. 


120 


CHAPTER  V 

HOW  PEREDUR  SLEW  THE  SERPENT  ADDANC 

IT  chanced  that  King  Arthur  went  to  hunt,  and 
Peredur  went  also.  And  Peredur  let  loose 
his  dog  upon  a  hart,  and  the  dog  chased 
the  hart  and  killed  it.  And  as  Peredur  fol- 
lowed the  chase  he  saw  signs  of  a  dwelling;  and  he 
went  towards  the  dwelling,  and  when  he  came  to 
it  he  beheld  a  hall,  and  at  the  door  of  the  hall  he 
found  some  strong  swarthy  youths  playing  at 
chess.  And  when  he  entered  the  hall  he  beheld 
three  maidens  sitting  on  a  bench,  and  they  were 
all  clothed  alike,  and  as  became  persons  of  high 
rank.  And  he  went  and  sat  by  them  on  the  bench. 

One  of  the  maidens  looked  at  him  steadfastly 
and  her  face  was  sad  and  her  eyes  were  filled  with 
tears.  And  Peredur  asked  her  wherefore  she  was 
weeping.  "Through  grief,"  she  replied,  "that  I 
should  see  so  fair  a  youth  as  thou  art  slain." 

"Who  will  slay  me?"  inquired  Peredur. 

"If  thou  art  so  daring  as  to  remain  here  to- 
night," she  answered,  "I  will  tell  thee." 

"How  great  soever  my  danger  may  be  in  re- 
maining here,  I  will  listen  to  you,"  said  Peredur. 

Then  the  maiden  said,  "This  palace  is  owned 

121 


TOonfcer  Stories 

by  him  who  is  my  father,  and  he  slays  every  one 
who  comes  hither  without  his  leave. 

"What  sort  of  a  man  is  thy  father  that  he  is  able 
to  slay  every  one  ?"  asked  Peredur. 

"A  man,  I  regret  to  say,"  she  replied,  "who  does 
wrong  unto  his  neighbors,  and  who  renders  justice 
to  none." 

And  hereupon  he  saw  the  youths  arise  and  clear 
the  chessmen  from  the  board.  And  he  heard  a 
great  tumult;  and  after  the  tumult  there  came  in 
a  huge,  black,  one-eyed  man,  and  the  maidens 
arose  to  meet  him.  And  they  disarrayed  him,  and 
he  went  and  sat  down;  and  after  he  had  rested  and 
pondered  awhile,  he  looked  at  Peredur  and  asked 
who  the  knight  was. 

"Lord,"  said  one  of  the  maidens,  "he  is  the  fair- 
est, gentlest  youth  that  ever  thou  didst  see.  And 
for  the  sake  of  Heaven  and  thine  own  destiny, 
have  patience  with  him." 

"For  thy  sake,"  he  replied,  "I  will  have  patience 
with  him  and  will  spare  his  life  this  night." 

Then  Peredur  came  towards  them  to  the  fire, 
and  partook  of  food  and  wine,  and  entered  into  dis- 
course with  the  ladies.  And  being  elated  with  the 
wine,  he  said  to  the  black  man,  "It  is  a  marvel  to 
me,  so  mighty  as  thou  sayest  thou  art,  who  could 
have  put  out  thine  eye." 

At  this  the  black  man  frowned  and  said,  "It  is 
one  of  my  habits  that  whosoever  puts  to  me  the 

122 


jfrom  the  nDabtnogfon 

question  which  thou  hast  asked,  shall  not  escape 
with  his  life,  either  as  a  free  gift  or  for  a  price." 

"Lord,"  said  the  maiden,  "whatsoever  he  may 
say  to  thee  in  jest  and  through  excitement  of  the 
wine,  make  good  that  which  thou  didst  promise 
just  now." 

"I  will  do  so  gladly  for  thy  sake,"  he  said;  "will- 
ingly will  I  grant  him  his  life  this  night."  And 
that  night  thus  they  remained. 

The  next  day  the  black  man  got  up  and  put  on 
his  armor,  and  said  to  Peredur,  "Arise,  young  man, 
and  suffer  death." 

And  Peredur  said,  "Do  one  of  two  things,  black 
man;  if  thou  wilt  fight  with  me,  either  throw  off 
thy  armor,  or  give  arms  to  me  that  I  may  en- 
counter thee." 

"Ha!  young  man,"  said  he,  "couldst  thou  fight 
if  thou  hadst  arms?  Take  thou  what  arms  thou 
dost  choose." 

And  thereupon  the  maiden  came  to  Peredur 
with  such  arms  as  pleased  him;  and  he  fought  with 
the  black  man  and  overcame  him  and  forced  him 
to  crave  his  mercy. 

"Black  man,"  said  Peredur,  "thou  shalt  have 
mercy,  provided  thou  tell  me  who  thou  art,  and 
who  put  out  thine  eye." 

"Lord,  I  will  tell  thee,"  he  replied.  "I  lost  it  in 
fighting  with  the  Black  Serpent  of  the  Carn.  There 
is  a  mound  which  is  called  the  Mound  of  Mourn- 
ing, and  on  the  mound  there  is  a  earn,  and  in  the 

123 


TOlon&cr  Stories 

earn  there  is  a  serpent,  and  in  the  tail  of  the  ser- 
pent there  is  a  stone,  and  the  virtues  of  the  stone 
are  such  that  whosoever  should  hold  it  in  one  hand, 
in  the  other  he  shall  have  as  much  gold  as  he  may 
desire.  And  in  fighting  with  this  serpent  was  it  that 
I  lost  my  eye.  And  the  Black  Oppressor  am  I 
called  for  the  reason  that  there  is  not  a  single  man 
around  me  whom  I  have  not  oppressed." 

"Tell  me,"  said  Peredur,  "how  far  is  it  hence?" 

"The  same  day  that  thou  settest  forth,"  he  re- 
plied, "thou  wilt  come  to  the  palace  of  the  Sons  of 
the  King  of  Tortures;  so  called  because  the  Ad- 
danc  of  the  lake  slays  them  once  every  day.  And 
the  day  following  thou  wilt  reach  the  Court  of  the 
Countess  of  Achievements.  In  the  household  of 
the  Countess  are  three  hundred  men,  and  unto 
every  one  who  comes  to  her  Court  the  achieve- 
ments of  her  household  are  related.  And  the  day 
that  thou  goest  thence  thou  wilt  reach  the  Mound 
of  Mourning;  and  round  about  the  mound  are  the 
owners  of  three  hundred  tents  guarding  the  ser- 
pent." 

"Since  thou  hast  been  an  oppressor  so  long," 
said  Peredur,  "I  will  cause  that  thou  continue  so 
no  longer."  So  he  slew  him. 

Then  the  maiden  spoke,  and  began  to  converse 
with  him.  "If  thou  wast  poor  when  thou  earnest 
here,  henceforth  thou  wilt  be  rich  through  the 
treasure  of  the  black  man  whom  thou  hast  slain. 
Thou  seest  the  many  lovely  maidens  that  there 

124 


From  tbe  HDamnogfon 

are  in  this  court;  thou  shalt  have  her  whom  thou 
best  likest  for  the  lady  of  thy  love." 

"Lady,"  replied  Peredue,  "I  came  not  hither 
from  my  country  to  woo;  but  match  yourselves  as 
it  liketh  you  with  the  comely  youths  I  see.  And 
none  of  your  goods  do  I  desire;  for  I  need  them 
not." 

Then  Peredur  rode  forward,  and  he  came  to  the 
Palace  of  the  Sons  of  the  King  of  Tortures;  and 
when  he  entered  the  palace  he  saw  none  but 
women;  and  they  rose  up  and  were  joyful  at  his 
coming.  And  as  they  began  to  discourse  with  him 
he  beheld  a  charger  arrive  with  a  saddle  upon  it, 
and  a  corpse  in  the  saddle.  And  one  of  the  women 
arose  and  took  the  corpse  from  the  saddle  and 
anointed  it  in  a  vessel  of  warm  water,  and  placed 
precious  balsam  upon  it.  And  the  man  rose  up 
alive,  and  came  to  the  place  where  Peredur  was, 
and  greeted  him,  and  was  joyful  to  see  him.  And 
two  other  dead  men  came  in  upon  their  saddles, 
and  the  maiden  treated  these  two  in  the  same  man- 
ner as  she  had  done  the  first.  Then  Peredur  asked 
the  chieftains  wherefore  it  was  thus.  And  they 
told  him  that  there  was  an  Addanc  in  a  cave,  which 
slew  them  every  day.  And  thus  they  remained 
that  night. 

In  the  morning  the  youths  arose  to  sally  forth, 
and  Peredur  besought  them  to  permit  him  to  go 
with  them.  But  they  refused  him  saying,  "If  thou 

125 


TOon&er  Stories 

shouldst  be  slain  there,  thou  hast  no  one  to  bring 
thee  back  to  life  again." 

And  they  rode  forward  and  Peredur  followed  af- 
ter them;  and  after  they  had  disappeared  from  his 
sight  he  came  to  a  mound,  whereon  sat  the  fairest 
lady  he  had  ever  beheld. 

"I  know  thy  quest,"  said  she,  "thou  art  going  to 
encounter  the  Addanc,  and  he  will  slay  thee;  and 
that  not  by  courage  but  by  craft.  He  has  a  cave, 
and  at  the  entrance  of  the  cave  there  is  a  stone 
pillar,  and  he  sees  every  one  who  enters,  and  none 
see  him;  and  from  behind  the  pillar  he  slays  every 
one  with  a  poisonous  dart.  But  if  thou  wilt  pledge 
me  thy  faith  to  love  me  above  all  women,  I  will 
give  thee  a  stone  by  which  thou  shouldst  see  him 
when  thou  goest  in,  and  he  cannot  see  thee." 

"I  will  by  my  faith,"  said  Peredur,  "for  when 
first  I  beheld  thee  my  heart  went  out  to  thee;  and 
when  I  have  slain  the  Addanc  where  shall  I  seek 
thee?" 

"When  thou  seekest  me,"  she  replied,  "seek 
towards  India."  And  the  maiden  vanished,  after 
placing  the  stone  in  Peredur's  hand. 

As  he  rode  forward  he  came  to  a  valley  through 
which  ran  a  river;  and  the  borders  of  the  valley 
are  wooded,  and  on  each  side  of  the  river  were 
level  meadows.  And  on  one  side  of  the  river  he 
saw  a  flock  of  white  sheep,  and  one  the  other  side 
a  flock  of  black  sheep.  And  whenever  one  of  the 
white  sheep  bleated  one  of  the  black  sheep  would 

126 


ffrom  tbe  nDabinosion 

cross  over  and  become  white;  and  when  one  of  the 
black  sheep  bleated  one  of  the  white  sheep  would 
cross  over  and  become  black.  And  he  saw  a  tall 
tree  by  the  side  of  the  river,  one  half  of  which  was 
in  flames  from  the  roots  to  the  top,  and  the  other 
half  was  green  and  in  full  leaf.  And  near  the  tree 
was  a  youth  of  royal  bearing  sitting  on  a  mound. 
Peredur  saluted  the  youth,  and  the  youth  greeted 
him  in  return.  Now  there  were  three  roads  lead- 
ing from  the  mound;  two  of  them  were  wide  and 
the  third  was  more  narrow.  And  Peredur  inquired 
where  the  three  roads  went. 

"One  of  them  goes  to  my  palace,"  said  the 
youth,  "and  I  invite  thee  to  go  with  me  and  rest 
in  my  palace  to-night,  and  my  wife  and  sisters  will 
entertain  thee.  The  other  road  leads  to  the  town 
wherein  food  and  drink  may  be  bought;  and  the 
narrow  road  leads  towards  the  cave  of  the  Ad- 
danc." 

"I  thank  thee  for  thy  courtesy,"  said  Peredur, 
"but  I  cannot  tarry;  and  with  thy  permission  I 
will  go  that  way." 

So  the  next  day  Peredur  set  forth  toward  the 
Mound  of  Mourning.  On  his  way  he  met  a  youth 
by  the  name  of  Etlym,  who  desired  to  go  with  him. 
So  they  went  forward  till  they  came  in  sight  of 
the  mound  and  the  tents. 

"Go  unto  yonder  men,"  said  Peredur  to  Etlym, 
"and  desire  them  to  come  and  do  me  homage." 

127 


TOonfcer 

So  Etlym  went  unto  them  and  said  unto  them, 
"Come  and  do  homage  to  my  lord." 

"Who  is  thy  lord,"  said  they. 

"Peredur  with  the  long  lance  is  my  lord,"  said 
Etlym. 

To  this  they  replied,  "Were  it  permitted  to  slay  a 
messenger,  thou  shouldst  not  go  back  to  thy  lord 
alive,  for  making  unto  kings  and  earls  and  barons 
so  arrogant  a  demand  as  to  go  and  do  him  hom- 
age." 

On  this  Peredur  desired  him  to  go  back  to  them, 
and  to  give  them  the  choice  either  to  come  and  do 
him  homage  or  to  do  battle  with  him.  And  they 
chose  rather  to  do  battle;  and  that  day  Peredur 
overthrew  the  owners  of  a  hundred  tents.  And 
the  next  day  he  overthrew  a  hundred  more;  and 
the  third  day  the  remaining  third  took  counsel  to 
do  homage  to  him.  And  Peredur  inquired  of 
them  wherefore  they  were  there.  And  they  told 
him  they  were  guarding  the  serpent  until  he 
should  die.  "For  then  should  we  fight  for  the 
stone  among  ourselves,  and  whoever  should  be 
conquerer  among  us  would  have  the  stone,  and 
thus  be  able  to  have  all  the  gold  he  wants." 

"Wait  here,"  said  Peredur,  "and  I  will  go  to  en- 
counter the  serpent." 

"No,  no,  lord,"  said  they,  "we  will  all  go  to- 
gether to  encounter  the  serpent  that  we  may  share 
the  honor  and  the  gold  with  thee." 

But  Peredur  would  not  permit  it  and  went  alone 

128 


from  tbe  flDabtnoston 

to  encounter  it.  And  he  took  the  stone  which  the 
maiden  had  given  him  in  his  left  hand  and  his  lance 
in  his  right  hand.  And  as  he  entered  the  cave  he 
perceived  the  Addanc,  and  he  pierced  him  through 
with  his  lance  and  cut  off  his  head.  And  as  he  came 
forth  from  the  cave,  behold  all  the  men  were  at 
the  entrance;  and  they  saluted  Peredur,  and  told 
him  that  there  was  a  prediction  that  he  should  slay 
the  monster. 

Then  Peredur  gave  the  head  of  the  Addanc  to 
the  young  man  Etlym,  and  he  said,  "May  Heaven 
prosper  and  bless  thee."  And  in  return  Etlym  of- 
fered him  one  of  his  three  sisters  in  marriage,  and 
half  his  kingdom  with  her. 

But  Peredur  said,  "I  came  not  hither  to  woo, 
but  if  I  took  a  wife,  I  would  prefer  your  sister  to 
all  others  whom  I  know." 

And  Peredur  still  rode  onward;  and  he  came  to 
the  fairest  valley  he  had  ever  seen,  through  which 
ran  a  river;  and  there  he  beheld  many  tents  of 
various  colors.  And  he  marvelled  still  more  at  the 
number  of  windmills  and  of  watermills  that  he  saw. 
And  there  rode  up  to  him  a  tall,  auburn-haired 
man,  in  a  workman's  garb,  and  Peredur  inquired 
of  him  who  he  was. 

"I  am  the  chief  miller,"  he  said,  "of  all  the  mills 
yonder." 

"Wilt  thou  give  me  a  lodging?"  said  Peredur. 

"I  will  gladly  do  so,"  replied  the  miller. 

So  Peredur  came  to  the  miller's  house,  and  the 

129 


TKHonfcer  Stories 

miller  had  a  fair  and  pleasant  dwelling.  And  Pere- 
dur  asked  money  as  a  loan  from  the  miller,  that 
he  might  buy  meat  and  bread  for  himself.  To  this 
the  miller's  wife  objected;  but  he  promised  her  that 
he  would  pay  him  ere  he  went  thence.  Then  he 
inquired  of  the  miller  wherefore  such  a  multitude 
was  there  assembled.  And  the  miller  said,  "There 
is  to  be  a  tournament,  and  the  Empress  of  Crist- 
inobyl  the  Great  is  here;  and  she  will  have  no  one 
for  her  husband  but  the  man  who  is  the  most  val- 
iant, for  she  careth  not  for  riches.  And  it  was  im- 
possible to  bring  food  along  for  so  many  thousands 
as  are  here,  therefore  were  these  mills  con- 
structed." 

The  next  day  Peredur  arose  and  equipped  him- 
self for  the  tournament.  And  among  the  tents  he 
beheld  one  that  was  the  fairest  of  them  all;  and  in 
that  tent  he  saw  a  beauteous  maiden  leaning  her 
head  out  a  window  of  the  tent,  and  he  thought  he 
had  never  seen  a  maiden  more  lovely  than  she. 
And  he  stopped  and  looked  upon  the  maiden,  and 
as  he  looked  he  began  to  love  her  greatly. 

And  he  remained  there,  gazing  at  the  maiden 
from  morning  until  midday,  and  from  midday  un- 
til evening;  and  then  the  tournament  for  the  day 
was  ended;  and  he  went  to  his  lodging  and  drew 
off  his  armor.  And  the  next  day  he  did  in  like 
manner  as  he  had  done  the  day  before.  And  the 
third  day  as  he  was  in  the  same  place  gazing  on  the 
maiden,  he  felt  a  hard  blow  between  the  neck  and 

130 


ffrom  the  flDabinooion 

the  shoulder  as  from  the  edge  of  an  axe.  And 
when  he  turned  and  looked  behind  him  he  saw 
that  it  was  the  miller;  and  the  miller  said  unto  him, 
"Do  one  of  two  things;  either  turn  thy  head  from 
hence  or  go  to  the  tournament." 

At  this  Peredur  smiled  upon  the  miller  and  went 
to  the  tournament,  and  all  whom  he  encountered 
that  day  he  overthrew.  And  as  many  as  he  over- 
threw he  sent  as  a  gift  to  the  Empress,  and  their 
horses  and  their  arms  he  sent  to  the  miller's  wife 
in  payment  of  the  money  that  he  had  borrowed  of 
the  miller.  And  the  Empress  sent  for  him  to  come 
and  visit  her,  but  Peredur  went  not  for  the  first 
nor  for  the  second  message.  And  the  third  time 
she  sent  one  hundred  knights  to  bring  him  against 
his  will;  and  they  went  to  him  and  told  him  this 
message  from  the  Empress.  And  Peredur  refused 
to  go  and  fought  with  them  and  defeated  them  and 
caused  them  to  be  bound  and  thrown  into  the  mill 
dyke. 

Then  the  Empress  sought  advice  of  a  wise  man; 
and  he  said  "With  thy  permission  I  will  go  to  him 
myself."  So  he  came  to  Peredur  and  besought  him 
to  come  and  visit  the  Empress. 

Then  Peredur  went  with  the  man,  and  when  he 
reached  the  tent  of  the  Empress  he  sat  down  in  an 
outer  chamber,  and  she  came  and  placed  herself 
by  his  side;  and  he  saw  that  she  was  the  beautiful 
maiden  he  had  seen  in  the  tent;  and  they  dis- 
coursed with  each  other  with  much  courtesy. 


Monger  Storied 

And  while  they  all  sat  thus,  they  beheld  a  black 
man  enter  with  a  goblet  of  wine  in  his  hand.  And 
he  dropped  upon  his  knee  before  the  Empress,  and 
besought  her  to  give  it  to  no  one  who  would  not 
fight  for  it.  And  she  looked  upon  Peredur,  and 
he  said,  "Lady,  bestow  upon  me  the  goblet."  And 
she  gave  it  to  him;  and  he  drank  the  wine  and 
sent  the  goblet  to  the  miller's  wife. 

And  while  they  thus  sat  talking,  behold  there 
entered  a  black  man  of  larger  stature  than  the 
other,  with  a  wild  beast's  claw  in  his  hand  wrought 
into  the  form  of  a  goblet,  and  filled  with  wine.  And 
he  presented  it  to  the  Empress,  and  besought  her 
to  give  it  to  no  one  but  the  man  who  would  fight 
with  him.  "Lady,"  said  Peredur,  "bestow  it  upon 
me."  And  she  gave  it  to  him.  And  Peredur  drank 
the  wine,  and  sent  the  goblet  to  the  wife  of  the 
miller. 

And  while  they  talked,  behold  a  rough  looking 
crisp-haired  man,  taller  than  either  of  the  others, 
came  in  with  a  bowl  in  his  hands  full  of  wine;  and 
he  bent  upon  his  knees  and  gave  it  into  the  hands 
of  the  Empress  and  besought  her  to  give  it  to 
none  but  him  who  would  fight  with  him  for  it. 
And  she  gave  it  to  Peredur,  and  he  sent  it  as  be- 
fore to  the  miller's  wife  in  return  for  the  money 
the  miller  had  loaned  him. 

And  that  night  Peredur  returned  to  his  lodg- 
ing; and  the  next  day  he  accoutred  himself  and  his 
horse  arid  went  to  the  meadow,  and  there  met  the 


fftom  tbe  nDabfnooton 

three  black  men  and  fought  with  them  and  slew 
them.  Then  he  went  to  the  tent  of  the  Empress, 
and  she  came  and  took  him  by  the  hand  and  said 
to  him: 

"Goodly  Peredur,  dost  thou  remember  the  faith 
thou  didst  pledge  me  when  I  gave  thee  the  stone, 
that  thou  mightst  kill  the  Addanc?" 

And  he,  gazing  at  her,  said,  "Lady,  thou  sayest 
truth,  I  do  remember  it  with  all  my  heart." 

For  she  was  the  maiden  who  had  been  sitting 
on  the  mound  when  Peredur  had  gone  in  search 
of  the  Addanc,  and  had  given  him  the  stone  on 
the  pledge  of  his  faithful  love.  And  so  he  remained 
with  her  for  fourteen  years,  as  the  story  relates. 
After  which  he  returned  to  the  court  of  King  Ar- 
thur. 


133 


CHAPTER  VI 

HOW   PEREDUR   SOUGHT   THE   CASTLE   OF  WONDERS 

WHILE  Peredur  was  at  Caerleon-upon-Usk, 
behold  there  came  to  the  palace  a  black 
curly-headed  maiden,  riding  upon  a  yel- 
low mule.  Her  face  and  hands  were  as  black  as  the 
blackest  iron  covered  with  pitch,  and  her  color  was 
not  more  frightful  than  her  form.  Her  face  was 
long,  her  nose  was  short  with  distended  nostrils; 
one  eye  was  mottled  gray  and  the  other  was  black 
as  jet  and  sunk  deep  in  her  head.  Her  teeth  were 
long  and  yellow;  her  legs  and  feet  were  large  and 
bony;  and  her  back  was  in  the  shape  of  a  crook. 

Greeting  King  Arthur,  she  said,  "May  it  please 
thee,  lord,  my  dwelling  is  far  hence  in  a  stately  cas- 
tle, and  therein  are  five  hundred  and  sixty-six 
knights  of  the  order  of  chivalry;  and  whoever 
would  acquire  fame  in  arms  and  encounters  and 
conflicts,  he  will  gain  it  there  if  he  deserves  it.  And 
whoso  would  reach  the  summit  of  fame  and  of 
honor,  I  know  where  he  may  find  it.  There  is  a 
castle  on  a  lofty  mountain,  and  there  is  a  maiden 
therein,  and  she  is  detained  a  prisoner  there;  and 
whoever  shall  set  her  free  will  attain  the  summit 

134 


Jftom  the  flDabinogion 

of  the  fame  of  the  world."  And  thereupon  she 
rode  away. 

Then  many  of  the  knights,  and  Peredur  with 
them,  started  to  find  the  castle  with  the  intent  to 
release  the  maiden.  And  Peredur  rode  forward 
over  the  whole  island  seeking  tidings  of  the  black 
maiden,  and  he  could  meet  with  none.  At  length 
he  came  to  a  valley  in  the  centre  of  which  flowed 
a  river.  As  he  traversed  the  valley  he  beheld  a 
horseman  coming  towards  him  and  wearing  the 
garments  of  a  priest;  and  he  besought  his  blessing. 
But  the  priest  would  not  give  him  his  blessing,  but 
chided  him  that  he  was  riding  clad  in  armor,  as  it 
was  Good  Friday.  To  which  Peredur  replied, 
"Chide  me  not,  for  I  knew  not  that  it  was  Good 
Friday,  since  it  is  a  year  since  I  set  forth  from  my 
own  country." 

Then  he  dismounted  and  led  his  horse  by  the 
bridle.  Soon  he  came  to  a  cross  road  which  en- 
tered a  wood;  and  on  the  other  side  of  the  wood 
he  saw  an  unfortified  castle.  Riding  up  to  the 
gate  of  the  castle  he  met  the  priest  whom  he  had 
seen  before,  and  he  asked  him  again  for  his  bless- 
ing. "The  blessing  of  Heaven  be  upon  thee,"  said 
the  priest,  "for  it  is  more  fitting  to  travel  in  thy 
present  guise  than  as  thou  wast  ere  while;  and 
this  night  thou  shalt  tarry  with  me."  So  he  re- 
mained there  that  night. 

The  next  day  Peredur  sought  to  go  forth;  but 
the  priest  said,  "To-day  no  one  may  journey.  Thou 

135 


TOonfcer  Storiee 

must  stay  with  me  to-day  and  to-morrow  and  the 
day  following,  and  then  I  will  direct  thee  as  best 
I  may  to  the  place  thou  art  seeking." 

So  the  fourth  day  Peredur  sought  to  go  forth, 
and  he  entreated  the  priest  to  tell  him  how  he 
should  find  the  Castle  of  Wonders. 

"What  I  know  I  will  tell  thee  thereof,"  said  the 
priest.  "Go  over  yonder  mountain,  and  on  the 
other  side  of  the  mountain  thou  wilt  come  to  a 
river,  and  in  the  valley  wherein  the  river  runs  is 
a  king's  palace,  wherein  the  king  sojourns  during 
Easter.  And  if  thou  mayst  have  tidings  anywhere 
of  the  Castle  of  Wonders  thou  wilt  have  them 
there." 

So  Peredur  rode  forward  until  he  came  to  the 
valley  in  which  was  the  river,  and  there  he  met  a 
number  of  men  going  to  hunt,  and  in  the  midst  of 
them  a  man  of  exalted  rank;  and  Peredur  saluted 
him.  And  the  man  replied,  "Choose,  chieftain, 
whether  thou  wilt  go  with  me  to  the  chase  or  pro- 
ceed to  my  palace,  where  you  can  remain  with  my 
daughter  until  I  return  from  the  chase,  when,  what- 
ever thy  errand,  such  as  I  can  obtain  for  thee  thou 
shalt  gladly  have." 

Then  as  Peredur  preferred  to  go  to  the  palace, 
the  king  sent  a  little  yellow  page  with  him  as  an 
attendant;  and  he  brought  him  to  the  palace.  And 
when  he  came  to  the  palace  the  king's  daughter 
saluted  him  joyfully,  and  prepared  for  him  a  repast 
and  placed  him  by  her  side  at  the  table.  And  what- 

136 


from  tbc 

ever  Peredur  said  to  her  she  laughed  loudly  so 
that  all  the  palace  could  hear  her. 

Then  the  little  yellow  page  went  to  the  king 
and  told  him  that  it  seemed  to  him  that  the  youth 
whom  he  had  met  was  his  daughter's  husband,  or 
if  not  that  he  would  shortly  be  so  unless  he  were 
cautious. 

"What  is  thy  counsel  in  this  matter?"  said  the 
king. 

"My  counsel  is,"  he  replied,  "that  thou  set 
strong  men  upon  him  to  seize  him  until  thou  hast 
obtained  the  truth  concerning  him." 

So  the  king  set  strong  men  upon  Peredur,  who 
seized  him  and  cast  him  into  prison.  Then  the 
maiden  went  before  her  father  and  asked  him 
wherefore  he  had  caused  the  youth  from  King  Ar- 
thur's court  to  be  imprisoned. 

"In  truth,"  he  answered,  "he  shalj  not  be  free 
to-night,  nor  to-morrow,  nor  the  day  following, 
and  he  shall  not  come  from  where  he  is." 

The  maiden  replied  not  to  what  the  king  had 
said,  but  went  to  the  youth  and  said  to  him,  "It 
is  unpleasant  for  you  to  be  here?" 

"I  should  not  care  if  I  were  not  here,"  he  an- 
swered. 

"Well,"  she  said,  "I  will  provide  for  thee  as  best 
I  can;  and  if  it  will  be  pleasing  to  thee  I  will  watch 
with  thee  through  the  night." 

"This  I  cannot  refuse,"  said  Peredur.  And  so 
she  remained  in  the  prison  with  him  all  the  night. 

137 


Udcmfcer  Stories 

In  the  morning  Peredur  heard  a  tumult  in  the 
town,  and  said,  "Tell  me,  fair  maiden,  what  is  this 
tumult  ?" 

"All  the  king's  hosts  and  his  forces  have  come 
to  the  town  to-day,"  she  answered. 

"And  what  seek  they  here  ?"  he  inquired. 

"There  is  an  earl  near  this  place  who  possesses 
two  earldoms,  and  is  as  powerful  as  a  king;  and 
a  tournament  will  take  place  here  to-day." 

"I  beseech  thee,"  said  Peredur,  "to  cause  a  horse 
and  arms  to  be  brought,  that  I  may  view  the  en- 
counter, and  I  will  promise  that  I  will  come  back 
to  my  prison  again." 

"Gladly,"  she  replied,  "will  I  provide  thee  with 
horse  and  arms." 

So  she  gave  him  a  horse  and  arms,  and  a  bright 
scarlet  robe  of  honor  over  his  armor,  and  a  yellow 
shield  upon  his  shoulder.  And  he  went  to  the 
combat,  and  as  many  of  the  earl's  men  as  encount- 
ered him  that  day  he  overthrew;  and  at  eventide 
he  returned  to  his  prison.  And  the  maiden  asked 
tidings  of  Peredur,  but  he  answered  her  not  a 
word. 

Then  the  maiden  went  to  her  father  and  asked 
tidings  of  him,  and  inquired  who  had  acquitted 
himself  the  best  of  the  household.  And  he  said 
that  he  knew  not,  but  that  it  was  a  man  with  a 
scarlet  robe  of  honor  over  his  armor,  and  a  yellow 
shield  upon  his  shoulder.  Then  she  smiled  and 
returned  to  where  Peredur  was,  and  did  him  great 

138 


Ifrom  tbe  flDabinogiort 

honor  that  night.  And  for  three  days  did  Pere- 
dur  slay  the  earl's  men;  and  before  any  one  could 
know  who  he  was  he  returned  to  his  prison. 

On  the  fourth  day,  Peredur  went  forth  again, 
and  he  slew  the  earl  himself.  And  the  maiden  went 
to  her  father  and  inquired  of  him  the  news. 

"I  have  good  news  for  thee,"  said  the  king;  "the 
earl  is  slain,  and  I  am  the  owner  of  his  two  earl- 
doms." 

"Knowest  thou,  lord,  who  slew  him?"  she  asked. 

"I  do  not  know,"  said  the  king.  "It  was  the 
knight  with  the  scarlet  robe  of  honor  and  the  yel- 
low shield." 

Then  she  said,  "My  father,  I  know  who  he  is." 

"By  Heaven!"  he  exclaimed,  "who  is  he?" 

"Lord,"  she  replied,  "he  is  the  knight  whom 
thou  hast  imprisoned." 

Then  the  king  went  unto  Peredur  and  saluted 
him,  and  told  him  that  he  would  reward  the  service 
he  had  done  for  him  in  any  way  he  might  desire. 
And  when  they  went  to  meat,  Peredur  was  placed 
beside  the  king,  and  the  maiden  was  placed  on  the 
other  side  of  Peredur. 

"I  will  give  thee,"  said  the  king,  "my  daughter 
in  marriage,  and  half  of  my  kingdom  with  her  and 
the  two  earldoms  as  a  gift." 

"Heaven  reward  thee,"  said  Peredur,  "but  I 
came  not  here  to  woo." 

"What  seekest  thou  then?"  asked  the  king. 

Then  Peredur  told  him  that  he  was  seeking  for 

139 


Monger  Stories 

the  Castle  of  Wonders.  At  this  the  maiden  said, 
"Thy  enterprise,  chieftain,  is,  I  fear,  greater  than 
thou  wilt  wish  to  pursue.  Nevertheless,  thou  shalt 
have  tidings  of  the  castle,  and  a  guide  through  my 
father's  dominions,  and  provisions  for  thy  journey, 
for  thou  art,  O  chieftain,  the  man  of  all  the  world 
whom  I  best  love." 

Then  she  said  to  him  that  he  should  go  over 
yonder  mountain,  and  there  he  would  find  a  lake, 
and  in  the  middle  of  the  lake  there  is  a  castle,  and 
that  is  the  castle  that  is  called  the  Castle  of  Won- 
ders. "And  we  know  not  what  wonders  are  with- 
in," she  said,  "but  thus  it  is  called." 

Then  Peredur  proceeded  toward  the  castle;  and 
when  he  came  there  he  found  the  gate  of  the  castle 
was  open  and  he  went  therein.  And  when  he  came 
to  the  hall,  the  door  was  opened  and  he  entered. 
And  he  beheld  a  chess-board  in  the  hall,  and  the 
chessmen  on  the  board  were  playing  against  one 
another  by  themselves.  As  he  looked  upon  the 
game,  behold  the  side  that  he  favored  lost  the 
game,  and  thereupon  the  others  set  up  a  shout, 
as  though  they  had  been  living  men.  And  Pere- 
dur was  wroth,  and  he  took  the  chessmen  in  his 
lap,  and  cast  the  chessboard  into  the  lake. 

And  when  he  had  done  this,  behold  a  black 
maiden  came  in,  and  said  to  him,  "The  welcome  of 
Heaven  be  not  unto  thee.  Thou  hadst  rather  do 
evil  than  good." 

140 


Jftom  tbe  flDabinogton 

"What  complaint  hast  thou  against  me?"  said 
Peredur. 

"That  thou  hast  occasioned  the  Empress  the 
loss  of  her  chessboard  which  she  would  not  have 
lost  for  all  her  empire.  And  the  way  in  which 
thou  mayst  recover  the  chessboard  is  to  repair  to 
the  Castle  of  Ysbydinongyl,  where  there  is  a  black 
man  who  lays  waste  the  dominions  of  the  Em- 
press; and  if  thou  canst  slay  him,  thou  wilt  re- 
cover the  chessboard.  But  if  thou  goest  there, 
thou  wilt  not  return  alive." 

"Wilt  thou  direct  me  hither?"  said  Peredur. 

"I  will  show  thee  the  way,"  she  replied. 

So  Peredur  went  to  the  Castle  of  Ysbydinongyl, 
and  there  he  found  the  black  man,  and  he  fought 
with  him  and  overcome  him  so  that  he  cried  for 
mercy.  "Mercy  will  I  grant  thee,'  said  Peredur, 
"on  condition  that  thou  cause  the  chessboard  to 
be  restored  to  the  place  where  it  was  when  I  en- 
tered the  hall." 

Then  the  maiden  came  to  him  and  said,  "The 
curse  of  Heaven  be  upon  thee  for  thy  work,  since 
thou  hast  left  that  monster  alive,  who  lays  waste 
all  the  possessions  of  the  Empress." 

"I  granted  him  his  life,"  said  Peredur,  "that  he 
might  cause  the  chessboard  to  be  restored." 

"The  chessboard  is  not  in  the  place  where  thou 
didst  find  it;  go  back  therefore  and  slay  him,"  said 
the  maiden. 

So  Peredur  went  back  and  slew  the  black  man. 

141 


Wkmfcer  Stories 

And  when  he  returned  to  the  palace  he  found  the 
black  maiden  there. 

"Ah !  maiden,"  said  Peredur,  "where  is  the  Em- 
press?" 

"I  declare  to  Heaven,"  she  replied,  "that  thou 
wilt  not  see  her  unless  thou  slay  the  monster  that 
is  in  yonder  forest." 

"What  monster  is  there?"  asked  Peredur. 

"It  is  a  stag,"  she  said,  "as  swift  as  the  swiftest 
bird;  and  he  has  one  horn  in  his  forehead  as  long 
as  the  shaft  of  a  spear,  and  as  sharp  as  whatever 
is  sharpest.  And  he  destroys  the  branches  of  the 
best  trees  in  the  forest,  and  kills  every  animal  that 
he  meets  therein.  And  what  is  worse,  he  comes 
every  night  and  drinks  up  the  fish  pond  and  leaves 
the  fishes  exposed  so  that  the  most  of  them  die 
before  the  water  returns  again." 

"Maiden,"  said  Peredur,  "wilt  thou  come  and 
show  me  this  animal?" 

"Not  so,"  said  the  maiden,  "for  he  hath  not  per- 
mitted any  mortal  to  enter  the  forest  for  about  a 
twelvemonth.  But  here  is  a  little  dog  belonging 
to  the  Empress,  which  will  arouse  the  stag  and 
chase  him  toward  thee." 

Then  the  little  dog  went  as  a  guide  to  Peredur, 
and  aroused  the  stag,  and  brought  him  towards 
the  place  where  Peredur  was.  And  the  stag  at- 
tacked Peredur  with  great  fury;  but  Peredur 
leaped  aside  and  let  him  pass  by  him,  and  as  he 

142 


fftom  tbe  nDabinosfott 

did  so  he  struck  him  and  smote  off  his  head  with 
his  sword. 

While  he  was  looking  at  the  head  of  the  stag, 
he  saw  a  lady  on  horseback  coming  towards  him. 
And  she  took  the  little  dog  in  the  lappet  of  her 
cap,  and  the  head  and  the  body  of  the  stag  lay 
before  her;  and  around  the  stag's  neck  was  a 
golden  collar. 

"Ha!  chieftain,"  she  said,  "uncourteously  hast 
thou  acted  in  slaying  the  fairest  jewel  that  was  in 
my  dominions." 

"I  was  entreated  so  to  do,"  said  Peredur;  "and 
if  I  have  done  wrong,  I  ask  is  there  any  way  by 
•which  I  can  atone  for  it  and  obtain  thy  friend- 
ship?" 

"There  is,"  she  replied.  "Go  thou  up  into  yon- 
der mountain,  and  there  thou  wilt  find  a  grove, 
and  in  the  grove  there  is  a  cromlech;  and  there 
thou  shalt  find  a  man  whom  thou  shalt  challenge 
three  times  to  fight.  In  this  way  canst  thou  have 
my  friendship." 

So  Peredur  went  toward  the  mountain,  and 
came  to  the  grove  and  challenged  any  man  to  fight 
him.  And  a  black  man  arose  from  beneath  the 
cromlech,  mounted  upon  a  bony  horse,  and  both 
he  and  his  horse  were  clad  in  huge  rusty  armor. 
And  there  they  began  to  fight.  And  as  often  as 
Peredur  cast  the  black  man  to  the  earth,  he  would 
jump  again  into  his  saddle.  Then  Peredur  dis- 
mounted and  drew  his  sword;  and  thereupon  the 

143 


Member  Stories 

black  man  leaped  upon  Peredur's  horse  and  dis- 
appeared with  his  horse  and  his  own.  And  Pere- 
dur  in  amaze  went  along  the  mountain  looking  for 
his  horse;  and  when  he  reached  the  other  side  of 
the  mountain  he  came  to  a  castle,  and  when  he  en- 
tered it  he  saw  a  lame  gray-headed  man  sitting  on 
one  side  of  the  hall  with  Gawaine  beside  him.  And 
there  Peredur  beheld  his  horse  which  the  black 
man  had  taken,  and  in  the  same  stall  with  that  of 
Gawaine. 

Then  Peredur  went  and  seated  himself  on  the 
other  side  of  the  hoary-headed  man.  And  behold 
a  yellow  haired  youth  came,  and  bent  upon  the 
knee  before  Peredur,  and  besought  his  friendship. 

"Lord,"  said  the  youth,  "it  was  I  that  came  in 
the  form  of  the  black  maiden  to  Arthur's  court, 
and  when  thou  didst  throw  the  chessboard,  and 
when  thou  didst  slay  the  black  man  of  Ysbydinon- 
gyl,  and  when  thou  didst  slay  the  stag,  and  when 
thou  didst  go  to  fight  the  black  man  of  the  crom- 
lech. And  I  came  with  the  bloody  head  in  the 
salver,  and  with  the  lance  that  streamed  with  blood 
from  the  point  to  the  hand,  all  along  the  shaft; 
and  the  head  was  thy  cousin's  and  he  was  killed  by 
the  sorceresses  of  Gloucester,  who  also  lamed 
thine  uncle;  and  I  am  thy  cousin.  And  there  is  a 
prediction  that  thou  art  to  avenge  these  things." 

Then  Peredur  and  Gawaine  took  counsel  to- 
gether and  they  sent  to  King  Arthur  and  his 
household  to  beseech  them  to  come  against  the 

144 


from  the  flDabinogion 

sorceresses.  And  the  King  and  his  knights  came 
and  began  to  fight  with  them;  and  one  of  the  sor- 
ceresses slew  one  of  King  Arthur's  men  before 
Peredur's  face,  at  which  Peredur  bade  her  forbear. 
And  the  soceress  slew  a  man  before  Peredur's  face 
a  second  time,  and  a  second  time  he  forbade  her. 
And  the  third  time  the  sorceress  slew  a  man  before 
the  face  of  Peredur;  and  then  Peredur  drew  his 
sword,  and  smote  the  sorceress  on  the  helmet;  and 
all  her  head  armor  was  split  into  two  parts.  At 
this  she  set  up  a  cry  and  warned  the  other  sor- 
ceresses to  flee,  telling  them  that  this  was  Pere- 
dur, the  man  who  had  learned  chivalry  with  them, 
and  by  whom  they  were  destined  to  be  slain.  Then 
King  Arthur  and  his  household  fell  upon  the  sor- 
ceresses and  slew  every  one  of  them.  And  thus  is 
it  related  of  the  Castle  of  the  Wonders. 

And  after  this  Peredur  went  to  King  Arthur's 
court,  and  there  it  is  supposed  he  lived  for  many 
years  with  his  wife,  the  fair  Angharard,  beloved  by 
the  King  and  all  his  knights. 

This  is  a  genuine  Arthurian  tale,  though  it  is  not  in- 
cluded in  Malory's  book  of  "Morte  de  Arthur."  Peredur  is 
frequently  referred  to  by  the  Bards  of  the  Middle  Ages, 
in  eulogistic  terms,  showing  the  high  esteem  in  which  his 
deeds  of  prowess  were  then  held. 

There  is  a  French  version  of  the  tale,  and  in  some  of 
the  old  romances  he  is  celebrated  under  the  name  of  Per- 
ceval, as  one  of  those  engaged  in  the  quest  of  the  Sangreal. 
Like  Owain,  his  exploits  were  sung  by  Chrestiens  de 
Troyes.  Both  of  these  heroes  are  celebrated  in  romances 
in  German  and  other  tongues  of  Northern  Europe. 

145 


<Se  taint  and  Cnifc 

Chapter  I 

ot»   ecratnt   toon    fctvid    for    l)i*  »  r  i  fl  * 

NCE  upon  a  time  King  Arthur  held  his 
court  at  Caerleon.  And  with  him  were 
nine  kings  and  many  earls  and  barons, 
and  many  noble  knights  of  the  Table  Round.  On 
Whitsuntide,  as  the  King  sat  at  the  banquet,  there 
entered  the  hall  one  of  his  foresters,  who  told  him 
that  he  had  seen  in  the  forest  a  milk  white  stag  of 
wondrous  size  and  beauty.  Then  King  Arthur 
sent  word  to  all  his  company  that  they  should  be 
ready  to  start  at  break  of  day  on  the  morrow  to 
hunt  the  milk  white  stag. 

Now  Queen  Guinevere  had  asked  of  Arthur 
leave  to  ride  with  the  hunters  to  see  the  chase,  and 
this  he  had  gladly  granted.  But  when  the  morn- 
ing came  she  lay  lost  in  pleasing  dreams  and  did 
not  waken  so  as  to  be  ready  to  go  with  the  com- 
pany. 

Then  her  maidens  went  to  Arthur  saying, 
"Guinevere  is  still  sleeping;  shall  we  awaken  her 
that  she  may  go  with  thee  to  the  hunt?" 

146 


ffrom  tbe 

"Disturb  her  not,"  the  King  replied,  "for  she 
had  rather  sleep  than  go  to  see  the  hunting." 

Then  Arthur  went  forth  and  took  the  road  to 
the  forest  and  all  the  knights  and  barons  went 
with  him.  After  they  were  gone  from  the  palace 
the  Queen  awoke  and  finding  she  had  overslept 
herself,  she  called  her  maidens  and  bade  them 
bring  her  two  horses.  When  they  were  brought 
she  mounted  one  and  bidding  one  of  her  maidens 
to  mount  the  other,  she  rode  forth  to  follow  the 
hunt. 

As  they  rode  through  the  forest  they  heard  a 
sudden  sound  of  hoofs;  and  looking  behind  them, 
they  beheld  a  knight  riding  towards  them, 
mounted  on  a  horse  of  great  size.  The  rider  was 
a  fair-haired  youth,  bare  legged  and  of  princely 
mien,  having  a  golden  hilted  sword  at  his  side,  and 
wearing  about  his  shoulders  a  scarf  of  purple  with 
a  golden  apple  in  each  corner.  His  horse  had  a 
stately  step,  quick  and  proud;  and  soon  he  over- 
took Queen  Guinevere  and,  reining  in  his  steed,  he 
saluted  her. 

The  knight  was  young  Geraint,  the  son  of  Er- 
bin,  who  was  the  lord  of  the  country  of  Erbin.  The 
Queen  was  pleased  to  meet  the  handsome  young 
knight,  and  asked  him  to  ride  with  her  to  the  hunt- 
ing, which  he  was  right  glad  to  do.  So  they  rode 
till  they  came  to  the  edge  of  the  forest,  and  there 
they  stood  waiting  to  hear  when  the  dogs  should 
be  let  loose.  Presently  they  heard  a  loud  noise, 

147 


Stories 

and  looking  toward  the  place  whence  it  came,  they 
beheld  a  dwarf  riding  upon  a  stately  horse;  and 
behind  him  was  a  lady  clothed  in  a  garment  of  gold 
brocade,  and  riding  upon  a  beautiful  white  horse 
of  steady  and  stately  pace.  With  her  was  a  knight 
clad  in  bright  armor  and  mounted  upon  a  war 
horse  of  great  size. 

As  the  Queen  beheld  them,  she  said,  "Sir  Ge- 
raint,  knowest  thou  the  name  of  that  tall  knight?" 

"I  know  him  not,"  answered  Geraine,  "and  be- 
cause of  his  strange  helm,  I  cannot  see  his  face 
or  his  features." 

Then  the  Queen  bade  her  maiden  go  and  ask 
the  dwarf  who  the  knight  was.  The  maiden 
obeyed,  but  when  she  asked  the  dwarf  who  the 
knight  was,  he  would  not  tell  her. 

So  the  maiden  said,  "Since  thou  art  so  churlish 
as  not  to  answer  me,  I  will  go  and  ask  him  myself." 

"Thou  shalt  not  ask  him,  by  my  faith,"  said 
the  dwarf. 

"Wherefore  shall  I  not  ask  him?"  she  replied. 

"Because  thou  art  not  of  sufficient  honor  to 
befit  thee  to  speak  to  my  lord,"  he  answered. 

Then  the  maiden  turned  her  horse's  head 
towards  the  knight;  upon  which  the  dwarf  struck 
her  across  the  face  with  the  whip  that  he  carried 
in  his  hand,  so  that  the  blood  flowed  forth.  At  this 
the  maiden  returned  to  Queen  Guinevere  com- 
plaining of  the  hurt  she  had  received. 

"Very  rudely  has  the  dwarf  treated  thee,"  said 

148 


fftom  tbe  nDabtnogtort 

Geraint;  "I  will  myself  go  to  ask  who  the  knight 
is."  So  he  went  to  the  dwarf  and  asked  who  the 
knight  was. 

"I  will  not  tell  thee,"  said  the  dwarf. 

"Then  I  will  ask  him  myself,"  said  Geraint. 

"That  thou  shalt  not,  by  my  faith,"  said  the 
dwarf.  And  with  that  he  struck  Geraint  with  his 
whip  as  he  had  done  to  the  woman. 

At  this  Geraint  was  very  wroth,  and  he  put  his 
hand  upon  the  hilt  of  his  sword;  but  he  considered 
that  it  would  be  no  vengeance  for  him  to  slay  the 
dwarf  and  be  attacked  unarmed  by  the  knight;  so 
he  returned  to  the  queen  who  said  he  had  acted 
wisely  and  discreetly.  Then  he  said  to  the  Queen, 
"Lady,  I  will  follow  him,  with  thy  permission;  and 
in  time  I  shall  come  to  a  place  where  I  may  get 
arms  so  that  I  may  encounter  the  knight." 

"Go,"  said  she,  "but  do  not  attack  him  until 
thou  hast  good  arms;  and  I  shall  be  very  anxious 
concerning  thee  until  I  hear  tidings  of  thee." 

"And  remember,  too,"  she  said,  "if  ever  thou 
hast  a  bride,  thou  art  to  bring  her  to  me,  and  be 
she  the  daughter  of  a  king  or  a  beggar  from  the 
hedge,  I  will  clothe  her  for  her  bridal." 

"If  I  am  alive,"  said  Geraint,  "thou  shalt  hear 
tidings  of  me  by  to-morrow  afternoon;"  and  so  he 
departed  rnd  followed  the  dwarf  and  the  knight. 

The  road  they  took  was  below  the  palace  of 
Caerleon,  and  across  the  ford  of  Usk,  and  they 
went  up  a  lofty  ridge  of  ground  until  they  came  to 

149 


Member  Stories 

the  top  of  it.  There  stood  a  fair  town,  and  at  the 
further  end  of  it  they  saw  a  great  fortress  and  a 
castle.  As  the  knight  passed  through  the  town, 
all  the  people  arose  and  saluted  him,  and  bade 
him  welcome. 

As  Geraint  rode  through  the  town  he  looked  at 
every  house  to  see  if  he  could  find  any  one  from 
whom  he  might  borrow  a  suit  of  armor;  but  he  saw 
no  one  whom  he  knew.  Every  house  was  full  of 
men  and  arms  and  horses;  and  the  men  were  pol- 
ishing their  shields  and  burnishing  their  swords 
and  washing  armor  and  shoeing  horses.  And  the 
knight  and  the  lady  and  the  dwarf  rode  up  to  the 
castle  and  entered  it. 

Geraint  stood  for  awhile  to  see  whether  the 
knight  would  remain  in  the  castle,  and  then  began 
to  look  about  him  to  see  where  he  should  lodge. 
At  a  little  distance  from  the  town  he  saw  an  old 
palace  that  had  once  been  full  noble,  but  was  now 
falling  into  decay.  He  went  toward  the  palace 
and  found  that  it  was  approached  by  a  bridge  of 
marble.  On  the  bridge  he  saw  sitting  a  hoary- 
headed  man  clad  in  poor  and  tattered  garments. 

As  Geraint  stood  gazing  upon  him,  the  aged 
man  said,  "Young  man,  wherefore  art  thou  so 
thoughtful?" 

"I  am  thoughtful,"  replied  Geraint,  "because  I 
know  not  where  to  pass  the  night." 

"Wilt  thou  abide  with  me?"  said  the  aged  man. 


fftom  tbe  fl&abinogton 

"If  thou  wilt  thou  shalt  have  of  the  best  that  I  can 
give  thee." 

So  saying  he  led  the  way  into  the  hall,  and  Ge- 
raint  followed  him. 

In  the  hall  Geraint  dismounted  and  left  his 
horse;  and  his  host  took  him  into  an  upper  cham- 
ber. And  there  he  beheld  an  aged  woman,  sitting 
on  a  cushion,  with  old  worn  out  garments  of  satin 
upon  her;  and  yet  it  seemed  to  him  that  she  must 
have  been  comely  when  in  the  bloom  of  youth. 
And  beside  her  was  a  maiden,  upon  whom  were  a 
vest  and  a  veil  that  were  old  and  much  worn.  As 
Geraint  looked  upon  her  he  thought  that  he  had 
never  seen  a  maiden  more  full  of  comeliness,  grace 
and  beauty  than  she. 

The  hoary-headed  man  said  to  the  maiden, 
"There  is  no  attendant  for  the  horse  of  this  youth 
but  thyself." 

"I  will  render  the  best  service  I  am  able,"  said 
she,  "both  to  him  and  his  horse." 

Then  she  disarrayed  the  knight,  and  unsaddled 
his  horse  and  gave  it  straw  and  corn.  When  this 
was  done  the  aged  man  said  to  the  maiden,  "Go  to 
the  town  and  bring  hither  the  best  that  thou  canst 
find,  both  of  food  and  of  liquor." 

"I  will  do  so  gladly,  lord,"  she  said.  So  she 
went  her  way  across  the  bridge,  and  Geraint  would 
fain  have  accompanied  her,  but  the  aged  man 
would  not  permit. 

While  the  maiden  was  away,  the  aged  man  and 


Monger  Stories 

woman  conversed  pleasantly  with  Geraint  and  told 
him  all  about  the  castle  and  the  town.  And  as 
they  talked  the  maiden  returned  bringing  with  her 
a  youth  bearing  on  his  back  a  flagon  of  wine  and 
the  quarter  of  a  young  bullock;  while  in  the 
maiden's  hands  and  in  her  veil  she  carried  a  quan- 
tity of  white  bread. 

"I  could  not  obtain  better  than  this,"  she  said, 
"nor  with  better  would  I  have  been  trusted." 

"Surely  this  is  good  enough,"  said  Geraint. 

So  the  food  was  made  ready  by  the  maiden,  who, 
moving  to  and  fro,  was  followed  by  the  admiring 
eyes  of  the  knight.  When  the  food  was  ready  Ge- 
raint sat  down  to  the  table  between  the  aged  man 
and  his  wife,  while  the  maiden  waited  upon  them. 

When  they  had  finished  eating,  Geraint  talked 
again  with  the  aged  man,  and  asked  him  to  whom 
the  palace  belonged. 

"Truly,"  said  he,  "it  was  I  that  built  it;  and  to 
me  also  belonged  the  city  and  the  castle  thou 
sawest." 

"Alas!"  said  Geraint,  "how  is  it  that  thou  hast 
lost  them?" 

"I  lost  a  great  earldom,  as  well  as  these,"  an- 
swered the  aged  man,  "and  it  was  in  this  wise :  I 
had  a  nephew,  the  son  of  my  brother,  and  I  took 
care  of  his  possessions;  but  when  he  came  of  age 
he  demanded  them  of  me,  but  I  delayed  awhile 
to  comply  with  his  request,  upon  which  he  made 

152 


Jtom  tbe  nDabtnogton 

war  upon  me,  and  took  from  me  not  only  his  own 
but  also  all  that  I  possessed  except  the  castle." 

"Good  sir,"  said  Geraint,  "wilt  thou  tell  me 
wherefore  came  the  knight,  the  lady,  and  the 
dwarf,  that  I  just  now  saw  go  into  the  castle;  and 
also  why  there  is  such  preparation  and  putting  of 
arms  in  order  in  the  town?" 

"I  will  do  so,"  said  the  aged  man.  "The  prep- 
arations are  for  a  tournament  that  is  to  be  held  to- 
morrow by  the  young  earl,  my  nephew.  In  the 
midst  of  a  meadow  hard  by  two  silver  forks  will  be 
set  up,  and  upon  the  silver  forks  a  silver  rod  will 
be  placed,  and  upon  the  silver  rod  will  be  hung  a 
silver  sparrow  hawk,  and  that  is  to  be  the  prize  of 
a  tournament  to  be  held  to-morrow.  To  this 
tournament  will  go  all  the  array  that  thou  didst 
see  in  the  city,  of  men  and  of  horses  and  of  arms. 
And  with  each  man  will  go  -his  lady  that  he  loves 
best;  and  no  man  may  joust  for  the  sparrow  hawk, 
except  the  lady  that  he  loves  best  be  with  him. 
And  the  knight  thou  sawest  has  now  gained  the 
sparrow  hawk  these  two  years;  and  if  he  wins  it 
to-morrow  they  will  from  that  time  forth  send  it 
to  him  every  year,  and  he  himself  will  come  here 
no  more.  And  he  will  be  called  the  Knight  of  the 
Sparrow  Hawk  from  that  time  forward." 

Then  Geraint  told  the  aged  earl,  whose  name 
was  Uniel,  of  the  quest  he  was  on,  and  of  the  in- 
sult which  the  knight's  dwarf  had  given  to  him, 
and  to  Queen  Guinevere;  and  he  said, 

153 


Member 

"What  is  thy  counsel  to  me  on  account  of  the 
insult  to  the  queen  and  to  myself?" 

"It  is  not  easy  to  counsel  thee,"  said  the  earl, 
"because  thou  hast  neither  dame  nor  maiden  with 
thee  for  whom  thou  canst  joust,  and  in  this  tourn- 
ament no  man  may  tilt  unless  the  lady  he  loves  best 
be  there.  Yet  I  have  arms  here  which  thou  couldst 
have,  and  there  is  my  horse  also  if  he  seem  to  thee 
better  than  thine  own." 

"Ah,  sir,"  said  Geraint,  "may  Heaven  reward 
thee;  but  my  own  horse  to  which  I  am  accustomed 
will  serve  me  best;  however,  I  will  take  thy  arms, 
as  I  have  none  of  my  own.  And  if  thou  wilt  permit 
me  to-morrow  to  challenge  for  this  fair  maiden, 
your  daughter,  I  will  engage,  if  I  come  alive  from 
the  tournament,  to  love  her  as  long  as  I  live." 

"Gladly  will  I  permit  this,"  said  the  aged  man; 
"and  since  the  tournament  will  begin  at  daybreak, 
it  will  be  best  that  we  now  take  our  needed  rest." 

Glad  was  the  maiden  when  she  heard  these 
words,  though  she  concealed  the  feeling  in  her 
heart,  for  Geraint  was  a  right  comely  knight,  and 
was  ever  courteous  to  ladies.  Then  as  it  was  need- 
ful to  be  at  the  tournament  at  daybreak  the  next 
morning,  they  all  lay  down  to  rest. 

At  early  morning,  before  the  dawn,  they  all 
arose  and  arrayed  themselves,  and  by  the  time 
that  it  was  day  they  were  all  four  in  the  meadow. 
And  there  was  the  Knight  of  the  Sparrow  Hawk 
making  the  proclamation  and  asking  his  lady-love 

154 


ffrom  tbe  flDabinoQion 

to  take  the  sparrow  hawk,  because  she  was  the 
fairest,  and  if  any  denied  her,  by  force  he  would 
defend  it  for  her. 

"Take  it  not,"  said  Geraint,  "for  there  is  here  a 
maiden  who  is  fairer  and  more  noble,  and  more 
comely,  and  who  has  a  better  claim  to  it  than  thou 
hast." 

Then  said  the  knight  to  Geraint,  "If  thou  main- 
tainest  the  sparrow  hawk  to  be  due  to  thy  lady, 
come  forward  and  do  battle  with  me." 

At  this  Geraint  went  forward  to  the  top  of  the 
meadow,  he  and  his  horse  being  arrayed  in  the 
Earl  Uniel's  old  armor,  which  was  heavy  and  rusty 
and  of  uncouth  shape.  And  he  and  the  knight 
rode  together  several  times  and  broke  their  lances 
upon  each  other,  and  at  last  the  Knight  of  the 
Sparrow  Hawk  seemed  to  be  gaining  the  mas- 
tery; and  there  was  shouting  and  joy  and  mirth 
amongst  his  followers. 

Then  the  old  earl  drew  near  to  Geraint  and  said, 
"O  knight,  since  no  other  lance  will  hold  with  thee, 
here  is  the  good  spear  which  was  in  my  hand  on 
the  day  when  I  received  the  honor  of  knighthood, 
and  it  never  yet  has  been  broken." 

Geraint  took  the  spear  with  thanks;  upon  which 
the  dwarf  also  brought  a  lance  to  his  lord,  saying, 
"Behold,  here  is  a  lance  for  thee,  not  less  good 
than  his.  And  bethink  thee  that  no  knight  has 
ever  withstood  thee  so  long  as  this  one  has  done." 

Then  Geraint  pricked  his  horse  and  rode  upon 

155 


WHonfcer  Stories 

the  knight  so  furiously  that  he  cleft  his  shield  in 
two,  and  broke  his  armor,  and  burst  his  girths, 
so  that  both  he  and  his  saddle  were  borne  to  the 
ground.  And  Geraint  dismounted  quickly,  and 
drew  his  sword,  and  rushed  fiercely  upon  him;  but 
the  knight  also  arose  and  drew  his  sword  against 
Geraint.  So  they  fought  on  foot  with  their 
swords,  giving  such  heavy  blows  that  the  fire 
flashed  from  their  armor  like  stars,  and  the  blood 
and  sweat  ran  down  into  their  eyes. 

After  awhile  it  seemed  as  if  the  stranger  knight 
would  prevail,  at  which  the  young  earl  and  all  his 
party  rejoiced;  but  Earl  Uniel  and  his  wife  and  the 
maiden  were  heavy  of  heart. 

Then  the  old  earl  went  near  to  Geraint  and 
cried,  "O  knight,  bethink  thee  of  the  insult  that 
thou  and  Queen  Guinevere  had  from  the  dwarf." 

At  this  Geraint  put  forth  all  his  strength  and 
struck  the  knight  so  hard  a  blow  upon  his  helmet 
that  it  broke,  and  the  sword  cut  through  the  flesh 
and  skin,  even  to  the  skull. 

Then  the  knight  fell  upon  his  knees,  and  threw 
his  sword  from  his  hand,  and  besought  mercy  from 
Geraint,  saying,  "Unless  I  have  time  to  commit 
myself  to  Heaven  for  my  sins,  and  to  talk  with  a 
priest,  thy  mercy  will  avail  me  little." 

"I  will  grant  thee  mercy  upon  one  condition," 
Geraint  replied,  "that  thou  go  to  King  Arthur's 
court  and  make  amends  to  Queen  Guinevere  for 
the  insult  that  was  offered  her  by  thy  dwarf.  As 

156 


ffrom  tbe  nDabinogton 

for  the  insult  to  me,  for  that  I  have  myself  taken 
amends." 

"This  will  I  gladly  do,"  said  the  knight,  "and 
who  art  thou?" 

"I  am  Geraint,  the  son  of  Erbin.  And  declare 
thou  also  who  thou  art." 

"I  am  Ederyn,  the  son  of  Nudd,"  he  replied. 

Then  he  leaped  upon  his  horse  and  rode  sadly 
forward  to  Arthur's  court,  his  lady  and  his  dwarf 
going  with  him. 

Then  came  the  young  earl  with  forty  honorable 
knights  to  Geraint  and  saluted  him  and  bade  him 
come  to  his  castle;  but  Geraint  said  he  would  lodge 
that  night  where  he  had  lodged  before;  and  so  he 
returned  with  Earl  Uniel  and  his  wife  and  daugh- 
ter to  the  old  palace. 

When  they  reached  the  chamber  they  found 
there  many  servants  and  attendants  whom  the 
young  earl  had  sent  to  put  the  house  in  order,  and 
with  large  stores  of  provisions  they  set  out  a  feast 
in  the  great  hall.  They  also  brought  fine  gar- 
ments for  Uniel  and  the  women;  but  Geraint  en- 
treated that  the  maiden  should  be  dressed  in  her 
vest  and  veil  in  which  he  had  first  seen  her,  until 
she  came  to  the  court  of  King  Arthur  to  be  clad 
in  such  garments  as  Queen  Guinevere  might 
choose  for  her.  So  the  maiden  arrayed  herself  in 
the  garments  which  she  had  on  when  Geraint  first 
saw  her. 

Then  they  all  sat  down  to  the  feast,  and  in  the 

157 


Wonfcer  Storied 

highest  places  were  Geraint,  the  young  earl,  the 
old  earl  and  his  wife,  and  the  maiden,  whose  name 
was  Enid.  So  they  feasted  and  had  good  cheer. 

When  the  feast  was  over,  the  young  earl  asked 
Geraint  to  visit  him  the  next  day;  but  Geraint  re- 
fused, saying  that  he  must  go  to  the  court  of  King 
Arthur  with  the  maiden  on  the  morrow. 

"I  go,"  he  said,  "to  seek  aid  for  Earl  Uniel,  who 
is  in  great  trouble,  having  lost  his  possessions." 

"Ah,  chieftain,"  said  the  young  earl,  "it  is  my 
fault  that  Earl  Uniel  is  without  his  possessions; 
and  with  regard  to  the  disagreement  between  him 
and  me,  I  will  gladly  abide  by  thy  counsel,  and 
agree  to  what  thou  mayst  judge  right  between  us." 

"Then,"  said  Geraint,  "I  but  ask  thee  to  re- 
store to  him  what  is  his,  and  what  he  should  have 
received  from  the  time  he  lost  his  possessions  even 
until  this  day." 

"That  will  I  gladly  do  for  thee,"  said  the  young 
earl. 

"Then,"  said  Geraint,  "whosoever  is  here  who 
owes  homage  to  Uniel,  let  him  come  forward,  and 
perform  it  on  the  spot." 

And  all  the  men  did  so;  and  by  that  treaty  they 
abided.  And  his  castle  and  his  town,  and  all  his 
possessions  were  restored  to  Uniel.  And  he  re- 
ceived back  all  that  he  had  lost,  even  to  the 
smallest  jewel. 

Then  spoke  Earl  Uniel  to  Geraint,  saying,  "Oh, 
Knight,  behold  the  maiden  for  whom  thou  didst 

158 


challenge  at  the  tournament;  thou  hast  won  her, 
and  gladly  I  bestow  her  upon  thee." 

"She  shall  go  with  me,"  said  Geraint,  "to  the 
court  of  King  Arthur,  and  there  will  we  be  wedded 
with  all  ceremony." 

Then  Enid  with  heart  full  of  sweet  and  modest 
thoughts,  cast  her  eyes  upon  her  faded  dress  and 
thought  it  never  yet  had  looked  so  mean.  "If  he 
would  but  tarry  for  a  day  or  two,  I  would  work 
until  my  eyes  were  dim,"  she  said  to  herself,  "to 
array  myself  so  that  I  should  not  discredit  him." 

And  thus  she  fell  to  longing  for  a  dress  that  her 
mother  had  given  her  some  three  years  before,  but 
which  had  been  lost  on  the  unhappy  night  when 
they  had  been  driven  from  their  palace.  As  she 
thus  mused,  lo !  her  mother  came  to  her  with  the 
self  same  dress,  which  the  young  earl  had  restored 
to  her,  at  which  Enid's  heart  was  full  of  joy. 

On  the  morrow  when  she  rose  she  arrayed  her- 
self in  this  costly  dress,  proud  to  have  Geraint  see 
her  thus  appareled.  But  Geraint  when  he  saw 
her,  said,  "Not  in  this  costly  robe,  but  in  the  sim- 
ple dress  in  which  first  I  saw  thee;  for  our  great 
Queen  hath  made  me  promise  that  whatever  bride 
I  brought,  she  herself  would  clothe  her  in  the 
raiment  that  she  chose." 

Then  Enid,  silently,  her  mother  silent  also  as 
she  aided  her,  laid  aside  the  costly  robe  and  robed 
herself  in  her  plain  and  much  worn  suit  again,  and 
came  to  Geraint,  who  as  he  saw  her  gave  her  a 

159 


Member  Storie0 

kindly  greeting,  his  heart  being  full  of  love  for 
her.  At  this  her  mother  smiled  for  joy,  though 
half  in  tears,  and  wrapped  her  in  a  mantle,  and 
pressed  a  parting  kiss  upon  her  brow.  Then 
mounting  their  steeds,  Enid  rode  with  Geraint 
toward  King  Arthur's  court. 


160 


.CHAPTER  II 

HOW  GERAINT  CAME  TO  THE  COURT  OF  ARTHUR 

IN  THE  meantime  Arthur  rode  forward  in  pur- 
suit of  the  white  stag.  The  men  were  divided 
into  hunting  parties,  and  the  dogs  were 
let  loose  upon  the  stag.  The  last  dog  that  was 
let  loose  was  the  favorite  dog  of  Arthur;  Cavall 
was  his  name.  So  fleet  was  he  that  he  left  all  the 
other  dogs  behind  him,  and  soon  reached  and 
turned  the  stag.  At  the  second  turn,  the  stag 
came  toward  the  hunting  party  of  King  Arthur; 
and  when  Arthur  espied  the  stag  he  set  upon  him, 
and  killed  him  and  cut  off  his  head.  Then  they 
sounded  the  death  horn,  and  all  the  hunters  came 
riding  in  and  gathered  around  the  dead  stag. 

Then  came  Kadyriaith  to  King  Arthur  and  said 
to  him,  "Behold,  my  lord,  yonder  is  Queen  Guine- 
vere, and  no  one  with  her  save  only  one  maiden." 

At  this  King  Arthur  said,  "Command  Gildas, 
the  son  of  Caw,  and  all  the  scholars  of  the  court  to 
attend  Queen  Guinevere  to  the  palace."  And  so 
they  did. 

Then  they  all  set  forth  again,  holding  converse 
together  concerning  the  head  of  the  stag,  to  whom 
it  should  be  given.  One  wished  it  should  be  given 

161 


Wlon&er  Stories 

to  the  lady  best  beloved  by  him  and  another  to  the 
lady  whom  he  loved  best;  and  so  as  they -talked 
about  the  matter  they  came  to  the  palace. 

When  Arthur  and  Guinevere  heard  them  dis- 
puting about  the  head  of  the  stag,  Guinevere  said 
to  the  King,  "My  lord,  this  is  my  counsel  concern- 
ing the  stag's  head;  let  it  not  be  given  away  until 
Geraint,  the  son  of  Erbin,  shall  return  from  the  er- 
rand he  is  upon." 

And  Guinevere  told  Arthur  what  that  errand 
was;  and  when  he  heard  it  he  said,  "Right  gladly 
shall  it  be  so."  And  thus  it  was  settled. 

The  next  day  Guinevere  caused  a  watch  to  be 
set  upon  the  ramparts  to  look  for  Geraint's  com- 
ing. And  after  midday  they  beheld  an  unhappy 
little  man  upon  a  horse,  and  after  him  a  dame  or 
a  damsel  also  on  horseback,  and  after  her  a  knight 
of  large  stature  bowed  down,  and  hanging  his  head 
low  and  sorrowfully,  and  clad  in  broken  and  worth- 
less armor. 

As  they  came  to  the  gate,  one  of  the  watch  went 
to  Guinevere  and  told  her  what  kind  of  people 
they  saw,  and  what  aspect  they  bore. 

"I  know  not  who  they  are,"  said  he. 

"But  I  know,"  said  Guinevere;  "this  is  the 
knight  whom  Geraint  pursued;  and  methinks  he 
comes  not  here  of  his  own  free  will;  but  Geraint 
has  overtaken  him,  and  avenged  the  insult  to  the 
maiden  to  the  uttermost." 

And  thereupon,  behold,  a  porter  came  to  the 

162 


Jftrom  tbe  flDabtnoaion 

place  where  Guinevere  was,  and  said,  "Lady,  at 
the  gate  there  is  a  knight,  and  I  never  saw  a  man  of 
so  pitiful  an  aspect  to  look  upon  as  he.  The  ar- 
mor that  he  wears  is  miserable  and  broken,  and 
the  stain  of  blood  upon  it  is  more  conspicuous  than 
its  own  color." 

"Knowest  thou  his  name?"  said  she. 

"I  do,"  he  replied;  "he  tells  me  that  he  is 
Edeyrn,  the  son  of  Nudd." 

Then  she  replied,  "1  know  him  not." 

So  Guinevere  went  to  the  gate  to  meet  him; 
and  as  she  saw  his  sad  plight  she  couH  not  but  pity 
him,  even  though  the  churlish  dwarf  was  with  him. 
Then  he  saluted  Guinevere  and  told  her  all  that 
had  befallen  him,  and  what  Geraint  had  done,  and 
that  Geraint  had  compelled  him  to  come  hither 
and  do  the  Queen's  pleasure  for  the  insult  he  had 
done  to  the  maiden. 

Then  Arthur  came  to  them,  and  gazing  a  long 
Itime  upon  the  knight,  asked  him  if  he  was  not 
Edeyrn,  the  son  of  Nudd,  to  which  the  knight  re- 
plied that  he  was.  He  then  told  Arthur  all  his 
adventure. 

"Well,"  said  Arthur,  "from  what  I  hear,  it  be- 
hooves Queen  Guinevere  to  be  merciful  towards 
thee." 

To  which  Queen  Guinevere  replied,  "The  mercy 
which  thou  desirest,  my  lord,  will  I  grant  him, 
since  it  is  as  insulting  to  thee  that  an  insult  should 
be  offered  to  me  as  to  thyself." 

163 


TOonfcer  Stories 

"This  will  be  best,"  said  Arthur;  "and  now  let 
him  have  medical  care  to  see  whether  he  may  live.'* 

So  it  was  settled  that  he  should  be  put  in  charge 
of  the  leeches,  and  when  he  was  recovered,  should 
give  such  satisfaction  to  the  Queen  as  the  knights 
of  the  Round  Table  might  judge  to  be  fitting. 

The  next  day  came  Geraint  to  Caerleon,  and  as 
they  saw  him  coming  with  the  maiden  clad  in 
white,  Queen  Guinevere  commanded  to  assemble 
all  the  women  to  welcome  them  and  wish  them 
joy.  And  when  Geraint  came  to  the  place  where 
Guinevere  was,  he  saluted  her. 

"Heaven  prosper  thee,"  said  the  queen,  "and 
welcome  to  thee.  And  Heaven  reward  thee  that 
thou  hast  so  proudly  avenged  my  wrong." 

To  which  Geraint  replied,  "Lady,  it  was  my  de- 
sire to  obtain  satisfaction  for  thee  according  to  thy 
will;  and  behold  here  is  the  maiden  through  whom 
thou  hadst  thy  revenge." 

"Verily,"  said  Guinevere,  "the  welcome  of 
Heaven  be  unto  her;  and  it  is  fitting  that  we  should 
receive  her  joyfully." 

Then  came  King  Arthur  and  welcomed  him  also 
with  many  words  of  praise  saying,  "Heaven  pro- 
tect thee,  and  the  welcome  of  Heaven  be  unto 
thee.  And  since  Edeyrn,  the  son  of  Nudd,  has  re- 
ceived his  overthrow  and  wounds  from  thy  hands, 
thou  hast  had  a  prosperous  career." 

"It  was  his  fault  through  his  arrogance  that  we 

164 


jftom  the  flDabinogion 

fought,  and  I  would  not  quit  him  until  one  of  us 
was  vanquished,"  replied  Geraint. 

"But  where  is  the  maiden,"  inquired  Arthur, 
"for  whom  I  heard  thou  didst  give  challenge?" 

"She  is  gone  with  Guinevere  to  her  chamber," 
Geraint  replied. 

Then  Arthur  went  to  see  the  maiden;  and  he 
and  all  the  court  gave  her  a  right  glad  welcome. 
The  Queen  attired  her  in  some  of  her  own  rich 
raiment,  and  they  all  said  that  they  had  never  seen 
any  one  who  was  more  beautiful  than  she. 

Soon  after  this,  Enid  and  Geraint  were  wedded 
with  all  ceremony,  Arthur  giving  away  the 
maiden  to  the  knight.  And  that  day  and  the  night 
were  spent  in  minstrelsy,  and  with  ample  gifts  of 
wine  and  a  multitude  of  games.  And  when  the 
hour  of  rejoicing  was  over  they  found  a  bridal 
chamber  had  been  provided  for  them  in  the  cham- 
ber of  the  King  and  Queen. 

And  so  they  took  up  their  abode  in  the  palace. 
And  Enid  had  many  companions,  both  men  and 
women;  and  there  was  no  maiden  more  esteemed 
than  she  in  all  the  Island  of  Britain. 

Meantime  the  Queen  reminded  them  of  the 
head  of  the  stag  which  Arthur  had  slain,  saying 
that  here  is  a  fit  occasion  for  bestowing  it.  "Let 
it  be  given,"  she  said,  "to  Enid,  the  daughter  of 
Uniel,  the  most  illustrious  maiden.  No  one  will 
begrudge  it  to  her,  I  know,  for  between  her  and 

165 


every  one  here  there  exists  nothing  but  love  and 
friendship." 

This  was  much  applauded  by  them  all,  and  es- 
pecially by  the  king.  So  the  head  of  the  stag  was 
given  to  Enid;  and  thereupon  her  fame  increased 
and  her  friends  became  more  in  number  than  be- 
fore. And  Geraint  and  Enid  abode  in  the  palace 
for  three  years.  And  Geraint  won  great  honors  in 
jousting  and  hunting,  and  his  fame  spread  over  the 
face  of  the  kingdom, 


166 


CHAPTER  III 

HOW    GERAINT   RETURNED    FROM    CORNWALL 

NOW  as  King  Arthur  was  holding  court  at 
Caerleon,  behold  there  came  ambassadors, 
wise  and  prudent,  and  full  of  knowledge 
and  eloquence  of  speech,  and  they  saluted  the 
King. 

"Heaven  prosper  you,"  said  King  Arthur,  "and 
the  welcome  of  Heaven  be  unto  you!  And 
whence  do  you  come?" 

"We  come,"  they  said,  "from  Cornwall,  being 
ambassadors  of  King  Erbin,  thy  uncle;  and  our 
mission  is  unto  thee.  Thy  uncle  is  growing  old 
and  waxes  heavy  and  feeble;  and  the  neighboring 
chiefs  knowing  this,  grow  insolent  towards  him, 
and  covet  his  lands  and  possessions.  Wherefore 
he  earnestly  beseeches  thee  to  permit  Geraint,  his 
son,  to  return  to  him  to  protect  his  possessions; 
it  being  better  for  him  to  spend  the  flower  of  his 
youth  and  the  prime  of  his  age  in  preserving  his 
own  boundaries,  than  in  tournaments  in  which 
there  is  no  profit,  although  he  obtains  glory  in 
them." 

"Well,"  said  King  Arthur,  "go  and  divest  your- 
selves of  your  armor  and  refresh  yourselves  after 

167 


Member  Storied 

your  fatigue;  and  before  you  go  forth  hence  you 
shall  have  an  answer." 

So  they  went  to  eat. 

Now  King  Arthur  was  much  grieved  to  think  of 
letting  Geraint  depart  from  him  and  his  court, 
though  he  did  not  think  it  fair  that  he  should  be 
kept  from  going  to  protect  his  own  dominions, 
seeing  that  his  father  was  unable  to  do  so.  No 
less  was  the  grief  and  regret  of  Queen  Guinevere, 
and  of  all  her  women,  and  all  her  damsels,  through 
fear  that  Enid  would  leave  them. 

Then  Arthur  told  Geraint  the  cause  of  the  mis- 
sion, and  of  the  request  of  the  ambassadors  to  him 
from  Cornwall.  And  Geraint  said,  "Truly,  be  it 
my  advantage  or  otherwise,  I  will  do  in  this  mat- 
ter according  to  thy  will." 

To  this  the  King  replied,  "Though  it  grieves  me 
to  part  with  thee,  it  is  my  counsel  that  thou  listen 
to  the  request  of  thy  father,  and  go  to  protect  thy 
possessions.  And  thou  mayst  take  with  thee  as 
many  as  thou  wilt  of  those  thou  lovest  among  my 
faithful  ones,  and  among  thy  friends,  and  among 
thy  companions  in  arms." 

"Heaven  reward  thee,  noble  King,  for  thy  good- 
ness to  me,"  said  Geraint,  "and  what  thou  advisest 
that  will  I  do." 

The  Queen,  hearing  of  the  ambassadors  and  the 
talk  of  Arthur  and  Geraint,  said,  "What  is  this  dis- 
course I  hear  between  you?  Is  it  of  those  who  are 
to  conduct  Geraint  to  his  country?" 

168 


Jftom  tbe  flDafcinogfon 

"It  is,"  said  the  King. 

"Then  it  is  needful  for  one  to  consider,"  said  she, 
"concerning  companions  and  a  provision  for  the 
lady  that  is  with  me." 

"Thou  wilt  do  well,"  said  Arthur,  "in  doing  so." 

The  next  day  the  ambassadors  were  permitted 
to  depart,  being  told  that  Geraint  would  soon  fol- 
low them.  On  the  third  day  Geraint  and  Enid  set 
forth,  and  many  brave  knights  and  beautiful 
women  went  with  them.  Never  was  there  seen  a 
fairer  host  journeying  toward  the  Severn. 

Now  upon  the  other  side  of  the  Severn  were 
the  nobles  of  Erbin  with  his  foster  father  at  their 
head,  who  came  to  welcome  Geraint,  and  many 
women  of  the  court,  with  his  mother,  came  to  re- 
ceive Enid,  his  wife. 

And  there  was  great  rejoicing  and  gladness 
throughout  the  whole  court,  and  throughout  all 
the  country,  concerning  Geraint,  because  of  their 
love  for  him,  and  the  greatness  of  the  fame  which 
he  had  gained  since  he  went  from  amongst  them; 
and  because  he  had  now  returned  to  take  posses- 
sion of  his  dominions  and  to  preserve  his  boun- 
daries. 

And  so  they  came  to  court.  And  in  the  court 
they  had  ample  entertainment,  and  a  multitude  of 
gifts,  and  an  abundance  of  wine,  and  a  variety  of 
minstrelsy  and  games.  And  to  do  honor  to  Ge- 
raint, all  the  chief  men  of  the  country  were  invited 

169 


TWUmfcer  Storied 

to  visit  him;  and  they  passed  that  day  and  that 
night  in  the  utmost  enjoyment. 

At  dawn  next  day,  Erbin  arose  and  summoned 
to  him  Geraint,  and  the  noble  persons  who  had 
borne  him  company.  And  he  said  to  Geraint,  "I 
am  a  feeble  and  aged  man,  and  whilst  I  was  able 
to  maintain  the  dominion  for  thee  and  for  myself 
I  did  so.  But  thou  art  young  and  in  the  flower  of 
thy  youth.  Henceforth  do  thou  preserve  my 
possessions." 

"Truly,"  said  Geraint,  "with  my  consent  thou 
shalt  not  give  the  power  over  thy  dominions  at 
this  time  into  my  hands,  and  thou  shalt  not  take 
me  from  Arthur's  court." 

"Into  thy  hands  will  I  give  them,"  said  Erbin; 
"and  this  day  also  shalt  thou  receive  the  homage 
of  thy  subjects." 

Now  while  Geraint  thought  upon  his  father's 
words,  Gawaine,  one  of  the  knights  of  King  Ar- 
thur who  had  accompanied  him,  said,  "It  were 
better  for  thee  to  satisfy  those  who  have  boons  to 
ask  to-day,  and  to-morrow  thou  canst  receive  the 
homage  of  thy  dominions." 

So  all  that  had  boons  to  ask  were  summoned 
into  one  place.  And  every  one,  as  requested, 
asked  that  which  he  desired.  And  the  followers 
of  Arthur  began  to  make  gifts;  and  immediately 
the  men  of  Cornwall  came  and  they  made  gifts 
also.  And  they  were  not  long  in  giving,  so  eager 
was  everyone  to  bestow  gifts.  And  of  those  who 

170 


Jftom  tbe  n&abinooiort 

came  to  ask  gifts,  not  one  departed  unsatisfied; 
and  the  day  and  night  were  spent  in  utmost  enjoy- 
ment. 

The  next  day,  at  dawn,  Erbin  desired  Geraint  to 
send  messengers  to  the  men  to  ask  them  whether 
it  was  pleasing  to  them  that  he  should  come  to 
receive  their  homage,  and  whether  they  had  any- 
thing to  object  to  him.  So  Geraint  sent  ambassa- 
dors to  the  men  of  Cornwall  to  ask  them  this.  And 
they  all  said  that  it  would  be  the  fulness  of  joy  and 
honor  to  them  for  Geraint  to  come  and  receive 
their  homage.  So  he  received  the  homage  of  all 
those  who  were  there. 

And  the  day  after,  the  followers  of  Arthur  in- 
tended to  return  to  Caerleon.  But  Geraint  said, 
"It  is  too  soon  for  you  to  go  away  yet;  stay  with 
me  until  I  have  finished  receiving  the  homage 
of  my  chief  men,  who  have  agreed  to  come  to 
me." 

And  so  they  tarried  with  him  until  all  the  people 
had  paid  their  homage  to  Geraint,  and  then  they 
took  their  departure  to  their  own  country.  And 
Geraint  went  with  them  to  bear  them  company, 
and  Enid  also,  as  far  as  Diganhwy,  and  there  they 
parted. 

As  soon  as  they  were  gone,  Ondyaw,  the  son  of 
the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  said  to  Geraint,  "Go  now, 
and  visit  the  uttermost  parts  of  thy  dominions,  and 
see  well  to  the  boundaries  of  thy  territories;  and 


Member 

if  thou  hast  any  trouble  respecting  them,  send  unto 
us  thy  companions." 

"Heaven  reward  thee !"  said  Geraint.  "And  this 
which  thou  advisest  will  I  do." 

So  Geraint  journeyed  to  the  uttermost  parts  of 
his  dominions;  and  experienced  guides  and  the 
chief  men  of  his  country  went  with  him.  And  the 
furthermost  point  that  they  showed  him  he  kept 
possession  of;  and  he  won  his  people's  love  and  he 
had  great  fame  throughout  the  land. 


172 


CHAPTER  IV 

V 

HOW  ENID  AND  GERAINT  BECAME  UNHAPPY 

AND  now  Geraint  ruled  in  his  father's  place, 
and  all  the  land  was  at  peace.  He  held 
tournaments  as  at  Arthur's  court,  and  met 
many  valiant  and  mighty  men,  until  he  had  gained 
as  much  fame  there  as  he  had  formerly  done  else- 
where. He  enriched  his  court,  and  his  com- 
panions, and  his  nobles,  with  the  best  horses  and 
the  best  arms,  and  with  the  best  and  most  val- 
uable jewels,  and  he  ceased  not  until  his  fame  had 
flown  over  the  face  of  the  whole  kingdom.  But 
after  a  while  he  grew  tired  of  these  sports,  and 
began  to  love  ease  and  pleasure.  And  on  account 
of  his  great  love  for  Enid,  he  spent  all  his  time 
with  her  in  the  palace  with  minstrelsy  and  diver- 
sions, and  neglected  knightly  sports  and  the  com- 
pany of  his  nobles,  insomuch  that  he  began  to  lose 
the  hearts  of  the  people.  And  there  was  murmur- 
ing and  scoffing  concerning  him  among  the  peo- 
ple of  the  palace. 

Now  when  Erbin  heard  of  these  things,  he 
spoke  to  Enid  and  asked  her  whether  it  was  she 
who  had  caused  Geraint  to  leave  his  sports  and 
forsake  his  people  and  his  hosts. 

173 


TOonber  Storied 

"Not  I,  by  my  confession  unto  Heaven,"  she  re- 
plied, "for  there  is  nothing  more  hateful  unto  me 
than  this." 

And  she  knew  not  what  she  should  do,  for  al- 
though it  was  hard  for  her  to  tell  her  thoughts  to 
Geraint,  yet  was  it  not  more  easy  for  her  to  listen 
to  what  she  heard,  without  warning  Geraint  con- 
cerning it.  And  she  was  very  sorrowful. 

One  morning  in  the  summer  time,  as  they  were 
lying  on  the  couch  in  their  chamber,  Enid  was 
awake,  but  Geraint  slept.  The  clothes  had  slipped 
from  off  his  arm  and  breast,  and  as  she  gazed  upon 
his  manly  beauty  she  exclaimed,  "Alas!  am  I  the 
cause  that  these  arms  and  this  breast  have  lost 
their  glory,  and  the  warlike  fame  they  once  so 
richly  enjoyed!  If  so  I  cannot  be  a  true  wife  to 
him." 

As  she  thus  spoke,  the  tears  dropped  from  her 
eyes  and  fell  on  her  husband's  breast,  so  that  he 
awoke.  Hearing  her  closing  words  but  imper- 
fectly, and  seeing  her  in  tears,  the  thought  entered 
his  mind  that  she  loved  some  other  man  more 
than  himself,  and  wished  for  other  society. 

Thereupon  Geraint  was  troubled  in  his  mind, 
and  springing  quickly  from  his  couch,  he  called 
his  squire  and  bade  him  get  ready  his  horse  and 
arms. 

"And  do  thou  arise,"  he  sternly  said  to  Enid, 
"and  apparel  thyself  in  the  worst  riding  dress  thou 
hast  in  thy  possession,  and  cause  thy  horse  to  be 

174 


0  efrjc  spokt  tt^c  tears  dropped  from 
tier  crcs  on  fycr  i)u^ban^  breast  */ 1 


jftom  tbe  fl&abinoafon 

got  ready;  and  evil  betide  me  if  we  return  here 
until  thou  knowest  whether  I  have  lost  my 
strength  so  completely  as  thou  didst  say.  If  that 
be  so,  then  will  it  be  easy  for  thee  to  seek  the  so- 
ciety of  him  of  whom  thou  wast  thinking." 

So  Enid  arose,  and  clothed  herself  in  her  mean- 
est garments,  in  the  faded  silk  in  which  he  had  first 
seen  her  and  loved  her  so  well;  but  she  said,  "I 
know  nothing  of  thy  meaning,  my  lord." 

"Neither  wilt  thou  know  at  this  time/'  he  an- 
swered roughly. 

Then  Geraint  went  to  Erbin,  and  told  him  he 
was  going  on  a  quest,  and  it  was  uncertain  when 
he  would  return.  And  when  Erbin  asked  him  who 
would  accompany  him  he  said  that  only  one  person 
would  go  with  him,  but  did  not  tell  him  who  that 
person  was.  Then  he  mounted  his  horse  and  rode 
forth  with  Enid,  charging  her  to  ride  on  before 
him,  and  whatever  she  might  hear  or  see,  not  to 
turn  back  or  speak  to  him  unless  he  first  spoke  to 
her.  The  road  which  he  chose  was  wild  and  beset 
with  thieves  and  robbers  and  vicious  animals. 

As  they  thus  rode,  he  was  saying  to  himself  how 
he  had  wasted  time  on  her  to  keep  her  true  and 
yet  had  failed;  while  she  was  ever  praying  the 
sweet  heavens  to  save  her  dear  lord  from  every 
danger,  and  casting  about  in  her  mind  to  know 
the  reason  of  this  statement,  and  wherein  she  had 
failed  in  her  duty  toward  him. 

175 


Member  Storiee 

They  thus  rode  on  until  they  came  to  a  high 
road  which  led  them  into  a  vast  forest. 

Soon  Enid,  who  rode  on  before,  saw  four  armed 
horsemen  lying  in  wait,  and  heard  one  of  them 
say  to  the  others,  "Here  is  a  good  occasion  for 
us  to  capture  two  horses  and  armor,  and  a  lady 
likewise;  for  we  can  easily  master  yonder  knight 
who  hangs  his  head  so  pensively  and  heavily." 

When  Enid  heard  this  she  knew  not  what  to  do, 
for  Geraint  had  charged  her  not  to  speak  to  him. 
"Yet,"  she  said  to  herself,  "I  would  rather  have 
my  death  from  his  hand  than  from  that  of  any 
other,  and  though  he  slay  me  yet  will  I  speak  to 
him  rather  than  endure  the  misery  of  seeing  him 
slain." 

So  she  waited  for  Geraint  until  he  came  near 
to  her;  and  then  she  said  kindly,  "My  lord,  did  you 
hear  the  words  of  those  men  concerning  thee  ?" 

At  this  Geraint  raised  his  eyes  and  looked  at  her 
angrily,  and  said,  "Did  I  not  bid  thee  hold  thy 
peace?  I  only  wish  for  silence,  and  not  warning. 
And  though  thou  shouldst  desire  to  see  me  slain 
by  these  men,  yet  do  I  feel  no  dread." 

Then  the  foremost  of  the  robbers  couched  his 
spear,  and  rushed  against  Geraint,  who  received 
the  stroke  against  his  shield,  and  thrust  his  own 
lance  through  the  other's  body.  At  this  the  other 
robbers,  one  after  another,  rushed  upon  him,  but 
he  slew  them  as  he  did  the  first.  He  then  dis- 
mounted and  took  the  arms  of  the  men  he  had 

176 


from  tbc  flDalrinoflion 

slain  and  placed  them  on  their  saddles  and  tied 
together  the  reins  of  the  horses.  Then  he 
mounted  his  horse  again,  and  bade  Enid  to  ride 
before  him  and  drive  the  horses;  and  again  he  for- 
bade her  to  speak  to  him  unless  he  first  spoke  to 
her. 

In  that  manner  they  went  through  the  forest, 
and  then  came  out  on  a  vast  plain,  across  which 
Enid  saw  three  armed  knights  coming  toward 
them;  and  she  heard  them  say  that  it  would  be  easy 
to  take  all  the  spoil  from  one  dolorous  knight. 
Again  was  Enid  full  of  fear  for  Geraint,  and  she 
turned  back  and  waited  until  Geraint  came  up  to 
her,  and  warned  him  of  the  purpose  of  the  three 
knights. 

At  which  Geraint  with  angry  voice  and  frown- 
ing brow,  said,  "I  declare  to  Heaven  that  all  they 
can  do  to  me  is  less  grievous  to  me  than  that  thou 
wilt  not  be  silent  as  I  bid  thee." 

"My  lord,"  she  answered  meekly,  "I  feared  lest 
they  should  surprise  thee  unawares." 

"Hold  thy  peace,  then,"  replied  Geraint,  "for  I 
desire  thy  silence." 

Straightway  the  three  knights  fell  upon  Ge- 
raint, but  they  fared  no  better  than  the  others 
had  done,  for  he  slew  them  all,  and  added  their 
arms  and  horses  to  the  other  spoil  which  was  in 
Enid's  charge,  and  bade  her  ride  before  him  and 
keep  silence. 

And    the    lady   went    on    with  the  horses  be- 

177 


TOonfcer  Stories 

fore  her,  and  she  pursued  her  way  straight  on- 
wards. And  at  a  great  distance  from  them  they 
beheld  a  wood,  and  they  could  see  neither  end  nor 
boundary  to  the  wood,  except  on  that  side  that 
was  nearest  to  them,  and  they  went  towards  it. 
And  there  came  riding  out  of  the  wood  five  horse- 
men, mounted  upon  large  and  powerful  chargers. 
And  when  they  drew  near  to  them,  Enid  heard 
them  say,  "Behold,  here  is  a  fine  booty  coming  to 
us,  which  we  shall  obtain  easily  without  labor,  for 
we  shall  have  no  trouble  in  taking  all  those  horses 
and  arms,  and  the  lady  also,  from  yonder  single 
knight  so  doleful  and  sad." 

Sorely  grieved  was  the  lady  upon  hearing 
this  discourse  so  that  she  knew  not  in  the  world 
what  she  should  do.  At  last  she  determined  to 
warn  Geraint,  and  so  she  turned  her  horse's  head 
towards  him,  and  told  him  what  she  had  heard. 

Angrily  and  bitterly  did  Geraint  smile  upon  her, 
and  he  said,  "Thee  do  I  hear  doing  everything  that 
I  forbade  thee;  but  it  may  be  that  thou  wilt  repent 
this  yet." 

And  immediately  the  men  met  them  and  rode 
upon  Geraint  to  overthrow  him;  but  he  overcame 
them  all  five.  And  he  placed  the  five  suits  of  ar- 
mor upon  the  five  saddles,  and  tied  together  the 
reins  of  the  twelve  horses,  and  gave  them  in 
charge  of  Enid,  saying,  "I  know  not  what  good  it 
is  for  me  to  order  thee;  but  this  time  I  charge 

178 


Jtom  tbe  flDaWnogion 

thee  in  an  especial  manner  not  to  speak  to  me 
again." 

So  the  lady  went  forward  towards  the  wood, 
keeping  in  advance  of  Geraint  and  driving  the 
horses,  as  he  had  bidden  her  to  do;  and  it  grieved 
him  as  much  as  his  wrath  would  permit  to  see  a 
maiden  so  illustrious  as  she  and  one  he  loved  so 
dearly,  having  so  much  trouble  with  the  care  of 
the  horses.  In  time  they  reached  the  wood,  and 
it  was  both  deep  and  vast,  and  while  in  this  wood 
the  night  overtook  them. 

"Ah,  my  lady,"  said  he,  "it  is  in  vain  to  attempt 
to  go  any  further  to-night." 

To  which  she  gently  answered,  "Well,  my  lord, 
whatever  thou  wishest  we  will  do." 

"It  will  be  best  for  us,"  he  answered,  "to  turn 
out  of  the  wood,  and  to  rest  and  wait  for  the  day, 
in  order  to  pursue  our  journey." 

"That  will  we  gladly,"  she  replied.  And  so  they 
did. 

Having  dismounted  himself  he  took  her  down 
from  her  horse.  As  he  lay  down  to  rest  he  said  to 
Enid,  "While  I  cannot  refrain  from  sleep  through 
weariness,  do  thou  watch  the  horses  and  sleep 
not." 

"I  will,  my  lord,"  she  replied. 

Then  he  went  to  sleep  in  his  armor;  and  thus 
passed  the  night,  which  was  not  long  at  that  sea- 
son. When  Enid  saw  the  dawn  appear,  she  looked 

179 


WDonfter  Stories 

around  to  see  if  he  were  waking,  and  thereupon  he 
awoke. 

"My  lord,"  she  said,  "I  have  desired  to  awake 
thee  for  some  time." 

Then  he  arose  and  said  to  her,  "Take  the  horses 
and  ride  forward  and  keep  straight  on  as  thou 
didst  yesterday." 

So  they  rode  on  until  they  came  to  an  open 
country  with  meadows  in  which  mowers  were 
mowing  the  grass.  And  before  them  was  a  river, 
and  as  they  rode  into  it  their  horses  bent  down 
their  heads  and  drank  the  water.  As  they  went 
up  out  of  the  river  by  a  lofty  steep  there  met  them 
a  tender  stripling  who  asked  them  whither  they 
were  journeying.  And  when  Geraint  had  told 
him,  he  took  them  to  the  town,  which  was  a  fair 
city,  and  found  them  pleasant  lodgings,  and  then 
went  to  tell  the  earl  of  the  place  of  his  adventures. 

"Go  to  the  knight,"  said  the  earl,  "and  say  to 
him  that  I  will  gladly  receive  him  into  my  palace." 

So  the  youth  went  to  Geraint  and  told  him  that 
the  earl  would  gladly  receive  him  into  his  palace; 
but  Geraint  said  that  he  would  rather  go  to  his 
own  lodgings.  He  had  a  goodly  chamber,  in  which 
was  plenty  of  straw,  and  drapery,  and  a  spacious 
and  commodious  place  he  had  for  horses;  and  the 
youth  prepared  for  them  plenty  of  provender. 

After  they  had  disarrayed  themselves,  Geraint 
said  to  Enid,  "Go  to  the  other  side  of  the  chamber 
and  come  not  to  this  side  of  the  house,  and  thou 

i  So 


JJtom  the  fl&abinooiott 

mayest  call  to  thee  the  woman  of  the  house,  it 
thou  wilt." 

"I  will  do,  my  lord,"  said  Enid,  "as  thou  dost 
request." 

And  after  they  had  eaten  and  drank  they  went 
to  sleep. 

The  next  day  the  earl  to  whom  the  city  be- 
longed, came  to  visit  Geraint,  bringing  with  him 
twelve  honorable  knights.  The  name  of  the  earl 
was  Earl  Durm.  And  he  asked  Geraint  the  object 
of  his  journey,  to  which  Geraint  replied  that  it  was 
to  seek  adventures  and  follow  his  own  inclinations. 
Then  the  earl  cast  his  eye  upon  Enid,  and  he 
looked  at  her  steadfastly;  and  he  thought  he  had 
never  seen  a  maiden  fairer  or  more  comely  than 
she,  and  he  set  his  thoughts  and  affections  upon 
her.  Then  he  asked  of  Geraint,  "Have  I  thy  per- 
mission to  go  and  converse  with  yonder  maiden, 
for  I  see  that  she  is  apart  from  thee." 

"Thou  hast  it  gladly,"  replied  Geraint. 

So  the  earl  went  to  Enid  and  said,  "Fair  maiden, 
it  cannot  be  pleasant  to  thee  to  journey  with  yon- 
der man." 

"It  is  not  unpleasant  for  me  to  journey  with 
him,"  she  replied. 

"But  thou  hast  neither  youths  nor  maidens  to 
serve  thee,"  he  said. 

"Truly,"  she  replied,  "it  is  more  pleasant  for 
me  to  follow  yonder  man,  than  to  be  served  by 
youths  and  maidens." 

181 


As  he  thus  talked  with  her,  he  became  inflamed 
with  her  beauty,  and  he  said,  "Listen  to  my  coun- 
sel; all  my  earldom  will  I  give  thee  if  thou  wilt 
dwell  with  me." 

"That  will  I  not,"  she  answered,  "for  yonder 
man  was  the  first  to  whom  my  faith  was  ever 
pledged;  and  shall  I  prove  inconstant  to  him?" 

"Thou  art  foolish,"  the  earl  replied;  "for  if  I  slay 
thy  lord  I  can  take  thee  with  me  even  against  thy 
will,  and  when  I  am  tired  of  thee,  can  turn  thee 
away.  But  if  thou  wilt  go  with  me  of  thine  own 
good  will,  I  swear  that  I  will  remain  true  to  thee 
as  long  as  I  may  live." 

Then  Enid  took  counsel  with  herself  how  she 
might  save  her  lord  even  if  she  might  seem  to  en- 
courage the  earl's  desires.  So  she  said  to  the  earl, 
"Then  to  save  me  from  needless  reproach,  come 
here  to-morrow  and  take  me  away  as  though  I 
knew  nothing  of  the  matter." 

To  this  he  assented  gladly,  and  took  his  leave. 
And  she  told  not  then  Geraint  of  the  conversation 
she  had  had  with  the  earl,  lest  it  should  rouse  his 
anger  and  bring  him  into  danger.  So  they  both 
went  to  sleep;  but  at  midnight  she  arose  and 
placed  all  Geraint's  armor  together  so  that  it 
might  be  ready  to  put  on.  And  then  in  fear  she 
came  to  the  side  of  Geraint's  bed,  and  spake  to 
him  softly  and  gently,  saying,  "My  lord,  arise,  and 
clothe  thyself,  for  these  were  the  words  of  the  earl 

182 


Jfrom  tbe  flDabtnoaion 

to  me,  and  his  intention  concerning  me."  So  she 
told  Geraint  all  that  had  passed. 

And  although  he  seemed  very  wroth  with  her 
for  speaking,  yet  he  took  warning  and  armed  him- 
self while  she  lighted  a  candle  that  he  might  have 
light  to  do  so.  Then  he  told  her  to  put  down  the 
candle  and  call  the  man  of  the  house  to  come  to 
him.  And  he  asked  the  man  how  much  he  owed 
him,  to  which  the  man  said  that  the  sum  was  little; 
but  Geraint  gave  him  all  the  horses  and  the  armor 
that  he  had  taken  from  the  robbers,  asking  only 
of  the  man  that  he  should  guide  him  out  of  the 
town  by  a  different  way  from  that  by  which  they 
entered  it.  To  this  the  man  agreed,  and  went  with 
him  as  far  as  was  desired.  Then  Geraint  bade  the 
lady  ride  before  him,  as  heretofore,  and  the  host 
returned  home. 

The  host  had  just  reached  his  house  when  be- 
hold, the  greatest  tumult  approached  that  was 
ever  heard.  And  when  he  looked  out,  he  saw  four 
score  knights  in  complete  armor  around  the  house, 
with  the  Earl  Durm  at  their  head. 

"Where  is  the  knight  that  was  here?"  said  the 
earl. 

"By  thy  hand,"  said  he,  "he  went  hence  some 
time  ago." 

"Wherefore,  villain,"  said  he,  "didst  thou  let 
him  go  without  informing  me?" 

"My  lord,  thou  didst  not  command  me  to  do  so, 
else  would  I  not  have  allowed  him  to  depart." 

183 


Member  Stories 

"What  way  dost  thou  think  he  took?" 

"I  know  not,  except  that  he  went  along  the  high 
road." 

Then  they  turned  their  horses'  heads  that  way, 
and  seeing  the  tracks  of  the  horses  upon  the  high 
road,  they  followed.  Enid  was  fearful  as  she  rode 
along  that  they  might  be  pursued  by  the  wicked 
earl.  As  the  morning  dawned  she  looked  behind 
her,  and  saw  vast  clouds  of  dust  coming  nearer  and 
nearer  to  her.  And  thereupon  she  became  uneasy, 
and  she  thought  it  was  the  earl  and  his  hosts  com- 
ing after  them. 

"By  my  faith,"  she  said,  "I  must  speak  to  my 
lord,  for  though  he  slay  me,  it  were  better  for  me 
to  receive  my  death  at  his  hands  than  to  see  him 
killed  without  warning  him." 

So  she  turned  to  her  lord  and  said,  "My  lord, 
seest  thou  yonder  man  hastening  after  thee,  and 
many  others  with  him?" 

"I  do  see  him,"  said  he,  "and,  in  despite  of  all 
my  orders,  I  see  that  thou  wilt  never  keep  silence." 

Still  he  turned  his  horse  and  met  the  knights, 
and  every  knight  who  came  up  he  overthrew.  The 
earl  assailed  him  last  and  they  fought  a  long  time; 
but  at  last  Geraint  struck  him  so  hard  a  blow  with 
his  lance  upon  the  center  of  his  shield  that  he  split 
his  shield  and  threw  him  from  his  horse  to  the 
ground,  and  so  hard  was  his  fall  that  for  awhile  he 
was  senseless.  As  soon  as  he  revived  he  cried  for 
mercy,  the  which  Geraint  granted  him. 

184 


from  tbe  HDabinogion 

Then  Geraint  and  Enid  pursued  their  journey, 
and  they  came  to  a  valley  with  a  river  running 
through  it,  over  which  was  a  bridge.  And  on  the 
other  side  of  the  river  they  saw  a  walled  town,  one 
of  the  finest  they  had  ever  seen.  As  they  ap- 
proached the  bridge  they  met  a  knight  mounted 
upon  a  large  and  spirited  steed,  and  Geraint  asked 
him  to  whom  the  valley  and  the  town  belonged. 
He  answered  that  they  were  in  the  hands  of  a  peri- 
lous knight  that  was  called  the  Little  King. 

Then  the  knight  warned  him  not  to  cross  the 
bridge  unless  he  wished  to  combat  with  the  Little 
King.  "And  if  thou  dost  so,"  he  said,  "thou  wilt 
probably  meet  with  shame  and  disgrace  for  thy 
daring." 

But  Geraint  would  not  be  turned  from  his  pur- 
pose; so  he  rode  on  over  the  bridge  and  Enid  with 
him.  On  the  other  side  he  saw  a  knight  that  was 
very  small  of  stature  mounted  on  a  great  war 
horse  broad-chested  and  full  of  spirit.  And  both 
he  and  the  horse  were  completely  armed. 

Seeing  Geraint,  he  said,  "Tell  me,  knight,  is  it 
through  ignorance  or  presumption  that  you  seek 
to  insult  me  and  infringe  my  rules?" 

"Nay,"  said  Geraint,  "I  knew  not  that  this  road 
was  forbid  to  any." 

"Thou  didst  know  it,"  said  the  other.  "There- 
fore come  with  me  now  to  my  court,  and  give  me 
satisfaction." 

"That  will  I  not,"  said  Geraint.    "I  would  not  go 

185 


TOonfcer  Stories 

even  to  thy  lord's  court,  excepting  Arthur  was 
thy  lord." 

"By  the  hand  of  Arthur  himself,"  said  the  knight, 
"I  will  have  satisfaction  of  thee  here  or  receive 
my  overthrow  at  thy  hands." 

With  that  the  Little  King  rode  upon  Geraint 
and  they  fought  together  a  long  time  on  their 
horses,  and  they  gave  each  other  so  many  hard  and 
severe  strokes  that  their  shields  lost  all  their  color. 
And  it  was  exceedingly  difficult  for  Geraint  to 
strike  the  Little  King  because  he  was  so  small  of 
stature;  but  at  last  he  gave  him  a  fair  stroke  and 
threw  him  headlong  to  the  ground.  Then  they 
drew  their  swords  and  fought  on  foot,  and  gave 
each  other  many  painful  wounds,  so  that  their  hel- 
mets were  pierced,  and  their  skull  caps  were 
broken,  and  the  light  of  their  eyes  was  darkened 
with  blood. 

At  length  Geraint  became  enraged,  and  called 
to  him  all  his  strength,  and  struck  the  other  so 
fierce  a  blow  that  it  shattered  his  helmet  and 
wounded  him  in  the  head  even  to  the  bone.  Then 
the  Little  King  dropped  his  sword  and  besought 
Geraint  that  he  would  have  mercy  and  compassion 
on  him.  This  Geraint  granted  on  condition  that 
the  Little  King  should  always  be  his  ally,  and 
consent  to  come  to  his  assistance  if  ever  it  was 
needed.  To  this  the  Little  King  willingly  pledged 
himself;  and  then  he  begged  Geraint  to  come  to 
his  court,  so  that  he  might  recover  from  his  fa- 

186 


ffrom  tbe 

tigue;  but  to  this  Geraint  would  not  consent,  but 
insisted  on  continuing  on  his  journey,  though  he 
was  sorely  wounded.  So  he  mounted  his  horse  in 
pain  and  all  covered  with  blood.  And  the  lady 
went  on  first,  and  they  proceeded  towards  the 
wood  which  they  saw  before  them. 

f 


187 


CHAPTER  V 

HOW   GERAINT   MET   ARTHUR  AND   GAWAINE 

WHEN  they  had  ridden  a  little  while,  Ge- 
raint's  wounds  began  to  pain  more  than 
at  first;  and  to  escape  the  heat  of  the  sun, 
which  was  very  great,  he  went  into  a  wood  and 
stood  under  a  tree.     Enid  followed  him  in  silence 
and  stood  not  far  away  under  another  tree. 

Suddenly  they  heard  the  sound  of  horns  and  a 
great  noise  of  clashing  arms;  and  as  they  looked 
they  saw  that  the  reason  for  the  noise  was  that 
Arthur  and  his  knights  and  ladies  of  the  court 
were  come  into  the  woods.  And  while  Geraint 
was  considering  which  way  he  should  go  to  avoid 
them,  behold  he  was  espied  by  a  foot-page,  who 
was  an  attendant  on  the  steward  of  the  household; 
and  he  went  to  the  steward,  Sir  Kay,  and  told 
him  of  what  kind  of  man  he  had  seen  in  the  wood. 
Then  the  steward  caused  his  horse  to  be  saddled, 
and  he  took  his  lance  and  his  shield,  and  went  to 
the  place  where  Geraint  was. 

"Ah,  knight!"  said  Kay,  "what  dost  thou  here?" 
"I  am  standing  under  a  shady  tree  to  avoid  the 
heat  and  the  rays  of  the  sun,"  replied  Geraint. 

188 


from  the  flDabinogton 

"Wherefore  is  thy  journey,"  asked  Kay,  "and 
who  art  thou?" 

"I  seek  adventures,  and  I  go  where  I  list." 

"Indeed,"  said  Kay,  "then  come  with  me  to  see 
Arthur,  who  is  here  hard  by." 

"That  will  I  not,  by  Heaven !"  said  Geraint. 

"Thou  must  needs  come,"  said  Kay. 

Then  Geraint  knew  who  it  was,  though  Kay  did 
not  know  Geraint.  And  Kay  attacked  Geraint  as 
best  he  could.  At  this  Geraint  became  wroth,  and 
he  struck  him  with  the  shaft  of  his  lance,  so  that 
he  rolled  headlong  to  the  ground.  But  chastise- 
ment worse  than  this  he  would  not  inflict  on  him. 

Tenified  and  wild  Kay  arose,  and  he  mounted 
his  horse  and  went  back  to  his  lodging.  And 
thence  he  proceeded  to  the  tent  of  Gawaine  saying, 
"O,  sir !  I  was  told  by  an  attendant  that  there  is  in 
the  wood  a  wounded  knight,  having  a  battered  ar- 
mor; and  if  thou  dost  right,  thou  wilt  go  and  see  if 
this  be  true." 

"I  care  not  if  I  do,"  said  Gawaine.  So  he  took 
his  spear  and  shield  and  mounted  his  horse  and 
came  to  the  place  where  Geraint  was. 

"Sir  knight,"  said  Gawaine,  "wherefore  is  thy 
journey?" 

"I  journey  for  my  own  pleasure,  and  to  seek  the 
adventures  of  the  world." 

"Wilt  thou  tell  me  who  thou  art?  Or  wilt  thou 
come  and  visit  Arthur,  who  is  near  at  hand?" 

"I  will  make  no  alliance  with  thee,  nor  will  I  go 

189 


TOotfter  Stories 

to  visit  Arthur,"  said  he.  And  he  knew  it  was 
Gawaine,  but  Gawaine  knew  not  that  he  was  Ge- 
raint. 

"I  purpose  not  to  leave  thee,"  said  Gawaine,  "till 
I  know  who  thou  art."  And  he  charged  him  with 
his  lance,  and  struck  him  on  his  shield,  so  that  the 
shaft  was  shivered  into  splinters,  and  their  horses 
were  front  to  front.  Then  Gawaine  gazed  fixedly 
upon  him  and  he  knew  him. 

"Ah,  Geraint!"  said  he,  "is  it  thou  that  art 
here?" 

"I  am  not  Geraint,"  said  the  knight,  who  with 
the  pain  of  his  wounds  and  the  agony  of  his  mind, 
divided  between  jealousy  of  Enid  and  sorrow  and 
love,  was  well  nigh  out  of  his  wits. 

"Geraint  thou  art,  and  I  know  thee  well,"  an- 
swered Gawaine,  "and  a  wretched  and  insane  ex- 
pedition is  this." 

Thus  saying,  he  looked  around  and  saw  Enid 
and  welcomed  her  right  gladly.  Then  he  en- 
treated Geraint  to  come  to  the  King.  But  Geraint 
still  refused,  saying,  "I  will  not,  for  I  am  not  in  a 
fit  state  to  see  any  one." 

Thereupon,  behold  one  of  the  pages  came  after 
Gawaine  to  speak  to  him.  So  he  sent  him  to  ap- 
prise Arthur  that  Geraint  was  there  wounded,  and 
that  he  would  not  come  to  visit  him,  and  that  it 
was  pitiable  to  see  the  plight  that  he  was  in.  And 
this  he  did  without  Geraint's  knowledge,  inasmuch 
as  he  spoke  in  a  whisper  to  the  page. 

190 


"Entreat  Arthur,"  said  he,  "to  have  his  tent 
brought  near  the  road,  for  he  will  not  meet  him 
willingly,  and  it  is  not  easy  to  compel  him  in  the 
mood  he  is  in." 

So  the  page  came  to  Arthur,  and  told  this.  And 
the  King  caused  his  tent  to  be  removed  unto  the 
side  of  the  road;  and  the  lady  rejoiced  in  her 
heart  when  she  saw  what  was  done.  Then  Ga- 
waine  led  Geraint  onwards  along  the  road,  till  they 
came  to  the  place  where  Arthur  was  encamped, 
and  the  pages  were  pitching  his  tent  by  the  road- 
side. 

"Lord,"  said  Geraint,  "all  hail  to  thee !" 

"Heaven  prosper  thee!  And  who  art  thou?" 
said  Arthur. 

"It  is  Geraint,"  said  Gawaine,"  and  of  his  own 
free  will  would  he  not  come  to  meet  thee." 

"Verily,"  said  Arthur,  "he  is  bereft  of  his  rea- 
son." 

Then  came  Enid,  and  saluted  Arthur.  "Heaven 
protect  thee !"  said  he.  And  thereupon  he  caused 
one  of  the  pages  to  take  her  from  her  horse. 

"Alas,  Enid,"  said  Arthur,  "what  expedition  is 
this?" 

"I  know  not,  my  lord,"  said  she,  "save  that  it 
behooves  me  to  journey  by  the  same  road  upon 
which  he  journeys." 

"My  lord,"  said  Geraint,  "with  thy  permission 
we  will  depart." 

191 


WBonfter  Stories 

"Whither  wilt  them  go?"  said  Arthur.  "Thou 
canst  not  proceed  now,  unless  it  be  to  thy  death." 

"I  had  rather,  lord,  that  thou  let  me  go." 

"That  will  I  not  do,  by  heaven,"  Arthur  replied. 

Then  he  caused  a  maiden  to  be  sent  for  to  con- 
duct Enid  to  the  tent  where  Guinevere's  chamber 
was.  And  Guinevere  and  all  her  women  were  joy- 
ful at  her  coming;  and  they  took  off  her  riding 
dress  and  put  other  garments  upon  her.  And  Ar- 
thur ordered  a  tent  to  be  pitched  for  Geraint,  and 
a  physician  to  be  called,  and  that  he  be  provided 
with  an  abundance  of  anything  he  needed. 

And  Arthur  and  his  hosts  remained  there  for 
nearly  a  month  while  Geraint  was  being  healed. 
And  when  he  was  fully  recovered,  Geraint  came  to 
Arthur  and  asked  his  permission  to  depart.  Then 
Arthur  summoned  the  physicians,  and  asked  them 
if  Geraint  was  cured;  and  they  told  him  that  he 
was. 

So  the  next  day  Arthur  gave  his  permission  for 
Geraint  to  continue  on  his  adventures.  And  on  the 
day  following  Arthur  removed  thence. 


192 


CHAPTER  VI 

HOW  GERAINT  AND  ENID  BECAME  HAPPY  AGAIN 

SO  Geraint  and  Enid  went  forth  again;  and  Ge- 
raint  desired  Enid  to  keep  before  him,  as  she 
had  done.  And  she  went  along  the  high  road 
as  before.  As  they  journeyed  along  the  road,  they 
heard  a  loud  wailing;  and  Geraint  said,  "Stand 
thou  here  and  I  will  go  and  see  what  is  the  cause 
of  this  wailing." 

"I  will,"  she  simply  said  in  reply. 

Then  he  went  forward,  and  there,  in  an  open 
glade  of  the  wood,  he  saw  a  damsel,  young  and 
fair,  bending  over  a  knight  who  lay  dead  in  his 
armor. 

"Ah,  lady,"  said  Geraint,  "what  hath  befallen 
thee?" 

Looking  up,  she  answered,  "Sir,  I  was  journey- 
ing here  with  my  beloved  husband,  when  lo,  three 
giants  came  upon  us,  and,  without  any  cause,  they 
slew  him." 

"Which  way  went  they  hence?"  asked  Geraint. 

"Yonder,  by  the  high  road,"  she  replied. 

So  he  returned  to  Enid,  and  said,  "Go  to  the 
lady  yonder  and  wait  there  till  I  come." 

Enid  was  sad  when  he  gave  her  this  command, 

193 


Member  Stories 

fearing  that  Geraint  would  never  return  to  her, 
but  nevertheless  she  went  to  the  damsel. 

Meanwhile  Geraint  followed  the  giants  and 
overtook  them.  Each  was  as  great  in  stature  as 
three  common  men,  and  carried  in  his  hand  a 
large  club.  Geraint  rushed  upon  them,  and  thrust 
his  lance  through  the  body  of  one,  and  then  drew 
it  forth  and  slew  another  in  the  same  way.  But 
the  third  turned  upon  him,  and  struck  him  with 
his  club,  so  that  the  blow  crushed  his  shoulder  and 
opened  all  his  wounds  anew,  and  the  blood  began 
to  flow  from  him.  Then  Geraint  drew  his  sword, 
and  smote  the  giant  so  fiercely  on  the  crown  of  his 
head  that  it  was  split  down  to  the  shoulders,  and 
he  fell  down  dead.  So  Geraint  left  him  there  and 
returned  to  Enid;  and  when  he  reached  the  place 
where  she  was  he  fell  down  lifeless  from  his  horse. 

Then  Enid  uttered  a  cry,  piercing  and  loud  and 
thrilling;  and  she  came  and  stood  over  him  where 
he  had  fallen. 

Now  it  chanced  that  a  wild  earl  called  Limours, 
with  a  great  company,  was  traveling  on  the  high 
road;  and  he  heard  a  great  cry,  and  turned  aside 
to  see  what  was  the  cause  of  it.  Seeing  Enid,  the 
earl  said,  "Fair  lady,  what  hath  befallen  thee?" 

"Ah,  good  sir,"  she  said,  "the  only  man  I  love 
or  ever  shall  love  is  slain." 

Then  he  said  to  the  other  lady,  "And  what  is 
the  cause  of  thy  grief?" 

194 


ffrom  the  nDabinogion 

"They  have  slain  my  dear  husband  also,"  she  re- 
plied. 

"Who  was  it  that  slew  them  ?"  asked  the  earl. 

"Some  giants,"  she  answered,  "slew  my  best  be- 
loved; and  the  other  knight  went  in  pursuit  of 
them,  and  came  tack  in  the  state  thou  seest." 

Then  the  earl  caused  the  dead  knight  to  be 
buried;  but  it  seemed  to  him  that  there  was  still 
some  life  left  in  Geraint,  so  he  had  him  carried 
along  with  him  in  the  hollow  of  his  shield  placed 
upon  a  bier.  And  the  two  women  followed. 

When  they  came  to  the  earl's  mansion,  Geraint 
was  placed  upon  a  couch  in  the  hall,  in  front  of 
the  table  that  was  in  the  hall,  and  Enid  sat  by  his 
side.  The  earl  and  his  companions  changed  their 
traveling  dress;  and  he  came  and  asked  Enid  to  do 
the  same,  but  she  refused. 

When  the  earl  saw  the  beauty  of  Enid,  he  said, 
"Do  not  be  so  sorrowful  whether  yonder  knight 
live  or  die.  Behold,  a  good  earldom,  together  with 
myself,  will  I  bestow  upon  thee;  be  therefore 
happy  and  joyful." 

"I  shall  never  henceforth  be  happy  while  I  live," 
said  Enid. 

"Come,  then,  and  eat  with  us,"  quoth  the  earl. 

"No,  by  Heaven,  I  will  not,"  she  answered. 

"But  by  Heaven  thou  shalt,"  cried  the  earl.  And 
he  forced  her  to  come  to  the  table,  where  he  many 
times  bade  her  to  eat. 

"I  call  Heaven  to  witness,"  said  she,  "that  I  will 

195 


TOonfcer  Stories 

not  eat  till  he  that  is  on  yonder  couch  shall  eat  like- 
wise." 

"Thou  canst  not  fulfil  that  pledge,"  said  the 
earl,  "for  the  man  is  already  dead." 

"I  will  prove  that  I  can,"  she  replied. 

Then  the  earl  offered  her  a  goblet  of  wine,  and 
bade  her  drink,  saying,  "It  will  cause  thee  to 
change  thy  mind." 

But  still  she  refused,  saying,  "Evil  betide  me, 
if  I  drink  ought  until  he  drink  also." 

At  this  the  earl  grew  very  wroth  and  said  to 
her,  "I  see  it  is  of  no  more  avail  for  me  to  be  gen- 
tle with  you  than  ungentle." 

With  that  he  did  a  most  unknightly  deed,  for  he 
raised  his  hand  and  gave  her  a  severe  box  upon 
the  ear.  Thereupon  Enid  raised  a  sharp  and  pierc- 
ing cry,  and  faced  the  earl  and  said,  "You  would 
not  have  dared  to  do  it  if  you  had  not  thought  my 
lord  was  dead." 

At  the  sound  of  her  cry,  Geraint,  who  had 
fainted  from  pain  and  loss  of  blood,  revived  from 
his  swoon,  and  sat  upon  the  bier,  and  finding  his 
sword  in  the  hollow  of  the  shield  wherein  he  lay, 
he  rushed  upon  the  earl  where  he  sat,  and  struck 
him  so  hard  a  blow  that  it  clove  him  in  twain  until 
the  sword  was  stayed  by  the  table. 

At  sight  of  that  blow  and  the  spectre  of  a  dead 
man  rising  from  his  bier,  they  all  sprang  up  in  fear, 
and  fled  from  the  table;  and  left  Geraint  and  Enid 
alone.: 

196 


fftom  tbc  flDabinogton 

When  Geraint  looked  upon  Enid  and  saw  how 
pale  she  was  and  that  she  was  weeping  bitterly,  his 
heart  was  moved  with  pity  towards  her,  and  he 
said,  "Enid,  I  have  used  you  worse  than  that  dead 
man,  and  done  you  greater  wrong.  And  all  the 
trouble  I  have  made  you  bear  has  made  you  thrice 
my  own;  and  henceforth  I  would  rather  die  than 
doubt  your  truth." 

To  this  Enid  could  not  say  a  single  word,  so 
deep  was  the  gladness  in  her  heart.  But  fearing  for 
his  life  she  cried,  "Fly,  my  lord,  for  they  will  re- 
turn and  slay  thee!" 

Then  Geraint  asked  her  where  their  horses 
were,  to  which  she  said,  "I  know  where  thy  horse 
is,  my  lord,  but  I  know  not  where  the  other  may 
be;  thy  horse  is  in  the  house  yonder." 

So  Geraint  went  to  the  house  and  brought  forth 
his  horse,  who  neighed  with  gladness  as  they 
came,  and  stooped  with  a  low  whinny  toward  them; 
and  Enid,  in  her  joy,  put  her  arm  around  his  neck 
and  kissed  the  white  star  upon  his  head. 

Then  Geraint  mounted  quickly  and  reached 
down  his  hand  to  Enid  to  help  her  on  the  horse; 
and  as  she  placed  her  foot  upon  his  own  to  climb 
he  put  his  arm  around  her,  and  kissed  her  as  she 
climbed,  while  she  in  wifely  tenderness  clasped 
her  arms  about  him;  and  thus  they  rode  away. 

Thus  they  rode  on  with  many  an  adventure  until 
they  came  to  King  Arthur's  court.  And  when 
they  reached  the  camp,  the  king  himself  came 

'97 


TOonfcer  Storiee 

forth  to  greet  them,  and  beholding  Enid's  face  so 
pale  and  yet  so  happy,  surmised  the  trouble,  and 
gently  lifted  her  from  the  horse,  kissing  her  as  a 
brother  might,  and  showed  her  an  empty  tent  into 
which  she  passed  and  Geraint  with  her.  Then  the 
king's  own  leech  was  sent  to  care  for  Geraint,  and 
Enid  tended  on  him  there;  and  her  constant  pres- 
ence near  him  and  her  sweet  and  thoughtful  min- 
istrations filled  all  the  courses  of  his  blood  with 
deeper  and  ever  deeper  love.  And  so  the  days 
passed  as  a  happy  dream. 

And  when  Geraint  was  whole  again,  they  went 
with  King  Arthur  to  Caerleon  upon  the  Usk,  and 
there  Queen  Guinevere  once  more  met  Enid,  and 
embraced  her  for  the  love  she  bore  her,  and 
clothed  her  in  suitable  apparel.  And  after  tarry- 
ing there  for  a  space,  Geraint  and  Enid  rode,  with 
fifty  knights  accompanying  them,  to  the  shores  of 
the  Severn,  and  passed  over  to  their  own  land  of 
Cornwall. 

And  there  Geraint  reigned  for  many  years  with 
justice  to  his  people,  and  won  lasting  renown, 
being  foremost  in  the  chase  and  tournaments,  so 
that  they  gave  him  the  title  of  the  Great  Prince. 
And  in  his  home  reigned  Enid,  whom  her  ladies 
loved  to  call  Enid  the  Fair,  while  a  grateful  people 
named  her  Enid  the  Good. 

This  story  forms  one  of  the  chapters  of  Tennyson's 
"Idyls  of  the  King."  It  is  not  found  in  Malory's  King 
Arthur,  as  are  the  other  stories  of  the  "Idyls,"  but  it  is 


jftom  tbe  flDabinoaton 

so  similar  in  spirit  and  intrinsic  interest  that  it  is  properly 
associated  with  them.  Tennyson's  poem,  though  con- 
taining some  beautiful  passages,  does  not  improve  upon 
the  Welsh  original.  It  appeals  less  to  human  sympathy 
and  the  sense  of  literary  propriety  on  account  of  the  more 
cruel  character  ascribed  to  Geraint.  As  Stopford  A. 
Brooke  says,  "there  is  not  a  trace  left  in  Geraint,"  as 
reproduced  by  Tennyson.  While  Geraint's  treatment  of 
Enid  in  the  Mabinogion  is  cruel,  in  Tennyson  it  becomes 
insulting  and  brutal.  "It  is  quite  out  of  character  with 
the  days  of  chivalry  in  which  the  original  story  took  its 
form,"  adds  Brooke. 

This  is  an  old  tale  showing  man's  injustice  and  cruelty 
to  woman  and  her  patience  and  constancy  under  her 
wrongs.  It  would  be  difficult  to  find  among  the  pages  of 
romance  a  character  of  greater  trust  and  simplicity  than 
that  of  Enid.  Her  character  is  admirably  sustained 
throughout  the  whole  tale  and  is  even  more  lovable  and 
touching  than  that  of  Griselda  Enid  is  the  Griselda  of  the 
Welsh  and  may  have  been  the  prototype  of  the  story  as 
told  by  Boccacio  and  Chaucer.  The  story  as  told  here 
omits  many  of  the  details  of  the  original 


199 


£)8tx>  ptopU  Coon  13V,inntvon  tor  t^i* 

NCE  upon  a  time,  Pwyll,  Prince  of  Dyved, 
was  at  Narberth,  his  palace,  where  a 
feast  had  been  prepared.  And  a  great 
host  was  with  him,  having  been  invited  to  the 
feast.  After  the  first  meal  was  over,  Pwyll  arose 
to  walk,  and  he  went  to  the  top  of  a  mound  that 
stood  above  the  palace.  The  mound  was  high 
and  was  called  Gorsedd  Arberth.  As  they  stood 
upon  the  mound  one  of  the  court  said  to  him, 
"Lord,  it  is  peculiar  to  this  mound  that  whosoever 
sits  upon  it  cannot  go  thence  without  receiving 
wounds  or  blows,  or  else  seeing  a  wonder." 

"I  fear  not,"  answered  Pwyll,  "to  receive 
wounds  and  blows  in  the  midst  of  such  a  host;  but 
as  to  the  wonder  that  I  would  gladly  see.  I  will 
go  therefore  and  sit  upon  the  mound." 

So  he  went  and  sat  upon  the  mound  waiting  to 
see  the  wonder.  And  while  he  sat  there  they  saw 
a  lady,  on  a  pure  white  horse  of  large  size,  with  a 
garment  of  shining  gold  around  her,  coming  along 
the  highway  that  led  from  the  mound.  Her  horse 

200 


Jtom  tbe  nDaWnofiion 

seemed  to  be  moving  at  a  slow  and  even  pace,  and 
to  be  coming  up  toward  the  mound. 

Then  said  Pwyll,  "My  men,  is  there  any  among 
you  who  knows  yonder  lady?" 

"There  is  not,  lord,"  they  replied. 

"Go  one  of  you  and  meet  her,"  Pwyll  said,  "that 
we  may  know  who  she  is." 

So  one  of  the  men  arose,  and  as  he  came  upon 
the  road  to  meet  her,  she  passed  by  him.  Then 
he  followed  her  as  fast  as  he  could  go,  being  on 
foot;  but  the  greater  his  speed,  the  farther  was  she 
from  him.  And  when  he  saw  that  it  profited  him 
nothing  to  follow  her,  he  returned  to  Pwyll,  and 
said  unto  him,  "Lord,  it  is  idle  for  any  one  to  fol- 
low her  on  foot." 

"Verily,"  replied  Pwyll,  "go  unto  the  palace  and 
take  the  fleetest  horse  that  thou  canst  find,  and 
ride  after  her." 

So  he  went  to  the  palace  and  took  a  horse  and 
rode  forward  with  much  speed  after  the  lady. 
Soon  he  came  to  an  open  level  plain,  and  he  put 
spurs  to  his  horse  to  ride  still  faster;  but  the  more 
he  urged  his  horse  the  farther  was  the  lady  from 
him.  After  a  while  his  horse  began  to  fail;  so  he 
stopped  his  pursuit  and  returned  to  the  place 
where  Pwyll  was. 

"Lord,"  said  he,  "it  will  avail  nothing  for  any 
one  to  follow  yonder  lady.  I  know  of  no  horse  in 
this  realm  stronger  than  this,  and  it  availed  me 
nothing  to  pursue  her." 

20 1 


TOonfcer  Stories 

"Of  a  truth,"  said  Pwyll,  "there  must  be  some 
illusion  here.  Let  us  go  toward  the  palace." 

So  to  the  palace  they  went  and  there  they  spent 
the  day.  And  the  next  day  they  arose,  and  after 
their  repast  Pwyll  said,  "Let  us  go  with  the  same 
party  as  yesterday  to  the  top  of  the  mound.  And 
do  thou,"  said  he  to  one  of  the  young  men,  "take 
the  swiftest  horse  that  thou  knowest  in  the  field." 

And  thus  the  young  man  did;  and  they  all  went 
towards  the  mound,  taking  the  horse  with  them. 
And  as  they  were  sitting  down  they  beheld  the 
lady  on  the  same  horse  as  yesterday,  and  in  the 
same  apparel,  coming  along  the  same  road.  Then 
said  Pwyll,  "Behold,  here  is  the  lady  of  yesterday. 
Make  ready,  youth,  to  learn  who  she  is."  And 
thereupon  the  lady  came  opposite  to  them. 

Then  the  youth  mounted  his  horse;  and  before 
he  had  settled  himself  in  his  saddle,  she  passed  by 
and  he  rode  after  her.  Soon  there  was  a  clear 
space  between  them,  though  her  speed  was  no 
greater  than  it  was  the  day  before.  Then  he  put 
his  horse  into  an  amble  and  thought  that  notwith- 
standing the  gentle  pace  at  which  his  horse  went 
he  would  soon  overtake  her.  But  this  availed  him 
not;  so  he  gave  his  horse  the  reins.  And  still  he 
came  no  nearer  to  her  than  when  he  went  at  a 
foot's  pace.  And  the  more  he  urged  his  horse  the 
farther  was  she  from  him;  yet  seemingly  she  rode 
not  faster  than  at  first. 

Now  when  he  saw  that  he  could  not  overtake 

202 


ffrom  the  flDabtnoatort 

the  lady,  he  returned  to  the  place  where  Pwyll  was, 
and  said,  "Lord,  the  horse  can  do  no  more  than 
thou  hast  seen." 

"I  see,"  replied  Pwyll,  "that  it  avails  not  that 
any  one  should  follow  her.  And,  by  Heaven,"  he 
said,  "she  must  have  an  errand  to  some  one  on 
this  plain,  if  her  haste  would  allow  her  to  declare 
it.  Let  us  go  back  to  the  palace."  So  to  the  pal- 
ace they  went,  and  they  spent  that  night  in  songs 
and  feasting,  as  it  pleased  them. 

And  the  next  day  again  they  amused  themselves 
until  it  was  time  to  go  to  meat.  And  when  meat 
was  ended  Pwyll  said,  "Where  are  the  hosts  that 
went  yesterday  and  the  day  before  to  the  top  of 
the  mound?" 

"Behold,  Lord,  we  are  here,"  said  they. 

"Let  us  go  to  the  mound,"  he  said  again,  "and 
sit  there.  And  do  thou,"  he  said  to  the  page  who 
tended  his  horse,  "saddle  my  horse  well,  and 
hasten  with  nim  to  the  road,  and  bring  also  my 
spurs  with  thee." 

So  the  youth  did  this  as  he  was  bidden;  and  they 
all  went  ug  and  sat  upon  the  mound  as  before. 
When  they  had  been  there  but  a  short  time,  they 
beheld  the  lady  coming  by  the  same  road,  and  in 
the  same  manner,  and  at  the  same  pace  as  before. 

"Young  man,"  said  Pwyll,  "I  see  the  lady  com- 
ing; give  me  my  horse." 

And  before  he  could  mount  his  horse  she  passed 
him;  and  he  turned  after  her  and  followed  her. 

203 


Stories 

At  first  he  let  his  horse  go  bounding  playfully 
along,  thinking  that  he  should  soon  come  up  to 
her;  but  he  came  no  nearer  to  her  than  at  first. 
Then  he  urged  his  horse  to  his  utmost  speed,  yet 
still  he  found  that  it  availed  nothing  to  follow  her. 

Then  said  Pwyll,  calling  to  the  maiden,  "O 
maiden,  for  the  sake  of  him  whom  thou  best  lovest, 
stay  for  me." 

"I  will  stay  gladly,"  said  she,  "and  it  were  better 
for  thy  horse  if  thou  hadst  asked  it  long  since." 

So  the  maiden  stopped.  And  fixing  her  eyes 
on  Pwyll,  she  began  to  talk  with  him. 

"Lady,"  asked  he,  "whence  comest  thou,  and 
whereunto  dost  thou  journey?" 

"I  journey  on  mine  own  errand,"  she  replied, 
"and  right  glad  am  I  to  see  thee." 

"My  greeting  be  unto  thee,"  he  replied. 

Then  she  threw  back  that  part  of  her  head  dress 
which  covered  her  face;  and  he  thought  that  the 
beauty  of  all  the  maidens  and  all  the  ladies  that 
he  had  ever  seen,  was  as  nothing  compared  with 
her  beauty. 

"Lady,"  he  said,  "wilt  thou  tell  me  aught  con- 
cerning thy  purpose?" 

"I  will  tell  thee,"  said  she;  "my  chief  quest  was 
to  seek  thee." 

"Behold,"  said  Pwyll,  "this  is  to  me  the  most 
pleasing  quest  upon  which  thou  couldst  have  come. 
And  wilt  thou  tell  me  who  thou  art?" 

To  this  the  maiden  answered,  saying,  "I  will  tell 

204 


from  tbe  nDabinogton 

thee,  Lord.  I  am  Rhiannon,  the  daughter  of  He- 
veydd  Hen,  and  they  sought  to  give  me  a  husband 
against  my  will.  But  no  husband  would  I  have, 
and  that  because  of  my  love  for  thee;  neither  will 
I  yet  have  one  unless  thou  reject  me.  And  hither 
have  I  come  to  hear  thy  answer." 

"By  Heaven,"  said  Pwyll,  "behold  this  is  my  an- 
swer. If  I  might  choose  among  all  the  ladies  and 
damsels  in  the  world,  thee  would  I  choose." 

"Verily,"  said  she,  "if  thou  art  thus  minded, 
make  a  pledge  to  meet  me  ere  I  am  given  to  an- 
other." 

"The  sooner  I  do  so  the  more  pleasing  it  will 
be  to  me,"  said  Pwyll;  "and  wheresoever  thou  wilt, 
there  will  I  meet  with  thee." 

"I  will  that  thou  meet  me  this  day  twelvemonth 
at  the  palace  of  Heveydd.  And  I  will  cause  a  feast 
to  be  prepared,  so  that  it  be  ready  against  the  time 
that  thou  comest." 

"Gladly,"  said  he,  "will  I  keep  this  tryst." 

"Lord,"  said  she,  "remain  in  health,  and  be 
mindful  that  thou  keep  this  promise;  and  now  will 
I  go  hence." 

So  they  parted,  and  he  went  back  to  his  hosts 
and  to  them  of  his  household.  And  whatsoever 
questions  they  asked  him  respecting  the  damsel, 
he  replied  not,  but  always  turned  the  discourse 
upon  other  matters.  And  when  a  year  from  that 
time  was  gone,  he  caused  a  hundred  knights  to 
equip  themselves  and  to  go  with  him  to  the  palace 

205 


Stories 

of  Heveydd  Hen.  And  when  he  came  to  the  pal- 
ace, there  was  great  joy  concerning  him,  with 
much  concourse  of  people  and  great  rejoicing,  and 
vast  preparations  for  his  coming.  And  the  whole 
court  was  placed  under  his  orders. 

The  hall  was  richly  garnished,  and  as  they  went 
to  meat  they  sat  thus:  Heveydd  Hen  was  on  one 
side  of  Pwyll,  and  Rhiannon  on  the  other  side;  and 
all  the  rest  were  arranged  according  to  their  rank. 
And  they  ate  and  feasted,  and  talked  with  one  an- 
other for  a  long  while,  and  then  arose  for  further 
entertainment.  At  the  beginning  of  the  carousal 
after  meat,  there  entered  a  tall  auburn  haired 
youth,  of  royal  bearing,  clothed  in  a  garment  of 
satin.  And  when  he  came  into  the  hall,  he  saluted 
Pwyll  and  his  companions. 

"The  greeting  of  Heaven  be  unto  thee,"  said 
Pwyll;  "come  thou  and  sit  down  with  us." 

"Nay,"  said  the  youth,  "a  suitor  am  I,  and  I 
will  do  mine  errand." 

"Do  so,  willingly,"  said  Pwyll. 

"Lord,"  said  he,  "my  errand  is  unto  thee,  and  it 
is  to  crave  a  boon  of  thee  that  I  have  come." 

"What  boon  soever  thou  mayest  ask  of  me,  as 
far  as  I  am  able  thou  shalt  have." 

At  this  the  maiden  said,  "Ah,  wherefore,  didst 
thou  give  that  answer?" 

"Hath  he  not  given  it  before  the  presence  of 
these  nobles?"  asked  the  youth. 

206 


front  tbc  flDabinogion 

"My  soul,"  said  Pwyll,  "what  is  the  boon  thou 
cravest  ?" 

"The  lady  whom  best  I  love,"  the  youth  replied, 
"is  to  be  thy  bride  to-night;  I  come  to  ask  her  of 
thee,  with  the  feast  and  the  banquet  that  are  in 
this  place." 

At  this  Pwyll  was  silent  with  regret  because  of 
the  answer  he  had  given.  And  Rhiannon  said, 
"Never  did  man  make  worse  use  of  his  wits  than 
thou  hast  done." 

"Lady,"  said  he,  "I  knew  not  who  he  was,  nor 
dreamed  he  would  ask  such  a  gift  as  this." 

"Behold,"  she  replied,  "this  is  the  man  to  whom 
they  would  have  given  me  against  my  will.  He  is 
Gwawl,  the  son  of  Clud,  a  man  of  great  power  and 
wealth ;  and  because  of  the  word  thou  hast  spoken, 
thou  must  bestow  me  upon  him  lest  shame  befall 
thee." 

"Lady,"  answered  Pwyll,  "I  understand  not  thy 
answer.  Never  can  I  do  as  thou  sayest." 

"Bestow  me  upon  him,"  she  said,  "and  I  will 
cause  that  I  shall  never  be  his." 

"By  what  means  can  this  be?"  he  inquired. 

Then  Rhiannon  said,  "In  thy  hand  I  will  give 
thee  a  bag  which  thou  art  to  keep;  and  I  will  en- 
gage to  become  his  bride  this  night  twelvemonth. 
And  at  the  end  of  the  year  be  thou  there,  and  bring 
the  bag  with  thee,  and  let  thy  hundred  knights  be 
in  the  orchard  yonder.  And  when  he  is  in  the 
midst  of  joy  and  feasting,  come  thou  in  by  thyself, 


TOonfcer  Stories 

clad  in  ragged  garments,  hiding  the  bag  in  thy 
hand,  and  ask  nothing  but  a  bag  full  of  food;  and  I 
will  cause  that  if  all  the  mead  and  liquor  that  are 
in  these  seven  Cantrevs  were  put  into  it,  it  would 
be  no  fuller  than  before.  And  after  a  great  deal 
has  been  put  therein  he  will  ask  thee  whether  thy 
bag  will  ever  be  full.  And  thou  shalt  say  that  it 
never  will  until  a  man  of  noble  birth  and  of  great 
wealth  shall  arise  and  press  the  food  in  the  bag 
with  both  his  feet,  saying,  "Enough  has  been  put 
there."  And  I  will  cause  him  to  go  and  tread  down 
the  food  in  the  bag;  and  when  he  does  so,  turn 
thou  the  bag  so  that  he  shall  be  up  over  his  "head 
in  it,  and  then  slip  a  knot  upon  the  thongs  of  the 
bag.  Let  there  be  also  a  good  bugle  horn  about 
thy  neck,  and  as  soon  as  thou  hast  bound  him  in 
the  bag,  wind  thy  horn,  and  let  it  be  a  signal  be- 
tween thee  and  thy  knights.  And  when  they  hear 
the  horn  let  them  come  in  haste  down  upon  the 
palace." 

Then  Gwawl  said,  "Lord,  it  is  meet  that  I  have 
an  answer  to  my  request." 

To  which  Pwyll  replied,  "As  much  of  that  which 
thou  hast  asked  as  it  is  in  my  power  to  give,  thou 
shalt  have." 

And  Rhiannon  said  to  Gwawl,  "As  for  the  feast 
and  the  banquet  that  are  here,  I  have  bestowed 
them  upon  the  men  of  Dyved,  and  the  household 
and  the  warriors  who  are  with  us.  These  can  I 
not  suffer  to  be  given  to  any  others.  But  in  a  year 

208 


from  tbe 

from  to-night  a  banquet  shall  be  prepared  for  thee 
in  this  palace,  that  I  may  become  thy  bride." 

So  Gwawl  went  forth  to  his  possessions,  and 
Pwyll  went  back  to  Dyved.  And  they  both  spent 
that  year  until  it  was  the  time  for  the  feast  at  the 
palace  of  Heveydd  Hen.  Then  Gwawl  set  out  to 
the  feast  that  was  prepared  for  him,  and  he  came 
to  the  palace  and  was  received  there  with  great 
rejoicing.  Pwyll,  also,  came  to  the  orchard  with 
his  hundred  knights,  having  the  bag  with  him,  as 
Rhiannon  had  commanded.  And  Pwyll  was  clad 
in  coarse  and  ragged  garments,  and  wore  large 
clumsy  shoes  upon  his  feet.  When  he  knew  that 
the  carousal  after  the  meat  had  begun,  he  went 
toward  the  hall;  and  when  he  came  into  the  hall, 
he  saluted  Gwawl  and  his  company,  both  men  and 
women. 

"Heaven  prosper  thee,"  said  Gwawl,  "and  the 
greeting  of  Heaven  be  unto  thee." 

"Lord,"  said  Pwyll,  "may  Heaven  reward  thee; 
I  have  an  errand  unto  thee." 

"Welcome  be  thy  errand,"  said  Gwawl,  "and  if 
thou  ask  of  me  anything  that  is  just,  thou  shalt 
have  it  gladly." 

"It  is  fitting,"  replied  Pwyll;  "I  crave  but  from 
want,  and  the  boon  that  I  ask  is  to  have  this  small 
bag,  that  thou  seest,  filled  with  meat." 

"That  is  a  request  within  reason,"  Gwawl  re- 
plied, "and  gladly  thou  shalt  have  it."  Then  turn- 

209 


TOonfcer  Storiee 

ing  to  his  servants  he  said,  "Bring  him  the  food  he 
wants." 

At  this  a  great  number  of  the  attendants  rose 
and  began  to  fill  the  bag;  but  for  all  they  put  into 
it,  it  was  no  fuller  than  at  first. 

"My  soul,"  said  Gwawl,  "will  the  bag  never  be 
full?" 

"It  will  not,  I  fear,"  said  Pwyll,  "unless  one  pos- 
sessed of  lands  and  domains  and  treasures  shall 
arise  and  tread  down  with  both  his  feet  the  food 
that  is  within  the  bag  and  shall  say,  "Enough  has 
been  put  therein." 

Then  said  Rhiannon  unto  Gwawl,  "Rise  up 
quickly  and  press  down  the  food." 

"I  will  willingly  do  so,"  said  he. 

So  he  rose  and  put  his  two  feet  into  the  bag. 
Then  Pwyll  turned  up  the  sides  of  the  bag  so  that 
Gwawl  was  over  his  head  in  it.  And  he  shut  it  up 
quickly  and  slipped  a  knot  upon  the  thongs,  and 
blew  his  horn.  Thereupon  behold  his  household 
came  down  upon  the  palace,  and  they  seized  all 
the  host  that  had  come  with  Gwawl,  and  cast  them 
into  his  own  prison.  And  then  Pwyll  threw  off  his 
rags  and  his  old  shoes  and  his  tattered  array  and 
they  all  saw  who  he  was.  As  the  knights  of  Pwyll 
came  in  every  one  of  them  in  turn  struck  a  blow 
upon  the  bag  and  asked,  "What  is  here?" 

"A  badger,"  they  replied. 

And  in  this  manner  they  played  with  the  bag, 
each  of  them  striking  it  with  his  foot  or  with  a 

210 


ffrom  the  fDabinogion 

staff.  And  every  one  as  he  came  in  asked,  "What 
game  are  you  playing  at  thus  ?" 

"The  game  of  Badger  in  the  Bag,"  they  replied. 
And  thus  was  the  game  of  Badger  in  the  Bag  first 
played. 

As  they  thus  played  with  the  bag,  the  man  with- 
in cried  out,  "If  thou  wouldst  but  hear  me,  let  me 
say  that  I  merit  not  to  be  slain  in  a  bag." 

"That  is  true,  lord,"  said  Heveydd  Hen.  "It 
were  fitting  that  thou  listen  to  him,  for  he  deserves 
not  this  cruel  treatment." 

"Verily,"  said  Pwyll,  "I  will  do  whatever  thou 
dost  counsel  concerning  him." 

"Behold,  this  is  my  counsel,"  said  Rhiannon, 
"thou  art  now  in  a  position  in  which  it  behooves 
thee  to  satisfy  suitors  and  minstrels;  let  him  give 
unto  them  in  thy  stead,  and  take  a  pledge  from 
him  that  he  will  never  seek  to  revenge  that  which 
has  been  done  to  him.  And  this  will  be  punish- 
ment enough." 

"I  will  do  this  gladly,"  said  the  man  in  the  bag. 

"And  gladly  will  I  accept  it,"  said  Pwyll,  "since 
it  is  the  counsel  of  Heveydd  and  Rhiannon." 

And  upon  this  he  was  let  out  of  the  bag,  and  he 
gave  sureties  that  he  would  keep  the  promise  that 
he  had  made.  And  he  said  to  Pwyll,  "Lord,  I  am 
greatly  hurt,  and  have  many  bruises,  and  have 
need  to  be  anointed.  So  with  thy  leave  I  will 
go  forth;  and  I  will  leave  nobles  in  my  stead  to 
answer  for  me  in  all  that  thou  shalt  require." 

211 


Member  Stories 

"Willingly  mayst  thou  do  this,"  said  Pwyll.  So 
Gwawl  went  toward  his  own  possessions. 

Then  the  hall  was  set  in  order  for  Pwyll  and  his 
men,  and  for  them  also  at  the  palace;  and  they 
went  to  the  tables  and  sat  down  to  meat.  And 
they  ate  and  feasted  and  spent  the  night  in  mirth 
and  pleasure.  And  thus  Rhiannon  became  the 
bride  of  Pwyll. 

The  next  morning  at  the  break  of  day  Rhiannon 
said,  "My  lord,  arise  now  and  begin  to  give  thy 
gifts  unto  the  minstrels.  Refuse  no  one  to-day 
that  may  claim  thy  bounty." 

And  Pwyll  answered,  "Thus  shall  it  be  gladly, 
both  to-day  and  every  day  while  the  feast  shall 
last" 

So  Pwyll  arose,  and  he  caused  silence  to  be  pro- 
claimed, and  desired  all  the  suitors  and  the  min- 
strels to  point  out  what  gifts  they  desired.  And 
this  being  done  the  feast  went  on,  and  he  denied 
no  one  anything  while  it  lasted. 

And  when  the  feast  ended,  Pwyll  said  unto  He- 
veydd,  "My  lord,  with  thy  permission  I  will  set  out 
for  Dyved  to-morrow." 

"Certainly,"  said  Heveydd,  "and  may  Heaven 
prosper  thee.  Fix  also  a  time  when  Rhiannon  may 
follow  thee." 

"We  will  go  hence  together,"  said  Pwyll. 

"As  thou  wiliest,  lord,"  said  Heveydd. 

So  the  next  day  they  set  forward  toward  Dyved, 
and  journeyed  to  the  palace  of  .Narberth,  where  a 

212 


feast  was  made  ready  for  them.  And  there  came 
to  them  great  numbers  of  the  chief  men  and  the 
most  noble  ladies  of  the  land;  and  of  these  there 
was  none  to  whom  Rhiannon  did  not  give  some 
rich  gift,  either  a  bracelet,  or  a  ring,  or  a  precious 
stone.  And  they  ruled  the  land  prosperously  both 
that  year  and  the  next,  and  Rhiannon  was  much 
loved  and  honored  by  all  who  knew  her. 


213 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  FALSE  ACCUSATION  AGAINST  RHIANNON 

NOW  in  the  third  year  a  son  was  born  to 
Pwyll  and  Rhiannon.  And  on  the  night 
he  was  born  women  watched  the  mother 
and  the  boy.  As  they  watched  they  all  fell  asleep, 
and  when  they  awoke  they  looked  where  they  had 
put  the  boy,  and  behold  he  was  not  there. 

"Oh,"  said  one  of  the  women,  "the  boy  is  lost !" 

"Yes,"  said  another,  "and  it  will  be  small  ven- 
geance if  we  are  burnt  or  put  to  death  because  of 
the  child." 

"Is  there  any  counsel  for  us  in  this  matter?" 
said  another  woman. 

"There  is,"  replied  a  fourth,  "and  I  will  offer 
good  counsel." 

"What  is  that?"  said  they  all. 

Then  she  said,  "There  is  here  a  hound  that  hath 
a  litter  of  whelps.  Let  us  kill  some  of  the  whelps 
and  rub  the  blood  on  the  face  and  hands  of  Rhian- 
non and  assert  that  she  hath  killed  her  son,  and 
she  alone  will  not  be  able  to  gainsay  us  six."  And 
according  to  this  counsel  it  was  settled. 

Now  toward  morning  Rhiannon  awoke,  and  she 
said,  "Women,  where  is  my  son?" 

214 


ftom  the  flDabinogton 

"Lady,"  said  they,  "ask  us  not  concerning  thy 
son,  for  see  by  the  blood  on  thy  hands  that  thou 
hast  slain  him.  And  by  our  faith  we  have  nought 
but  the  blows  and  bruises  which  we  got  struggling 
with  thee  to  prevent  the  deed." 

"For  pity's  sake,"  said  Rhiannon,  "the  Lord 
knows  all  things.  Charge  me  not  falsely.  If  you 
tell  me  this  from  fear,  I  assert  before  Heaven  that 
I  will  defend  you." 

"Truly,"  they  replied,  "we  would  not  bring  evil 
on  ourselves  for  any  one  in  the  world." 

"But  you  will  receive  no  evil  for  telling  the 
truth,"  said  Rhiannon.  But  for  all  her  words, 
whether  fair  or  harsh,  she  received  but  the  same 
answer  from  the  women. 

Now  in  the  morning  Pwyll,  the  chief  of  Ann- 
wvyn,  arose  and  all  his  household  and  heard  the 
story  of  the  death  of  his  son.  And  the  loss  of  his 
son  could  not  be  concealed,  but  the  story  of  the 
women  went  forth  throughout  the  land,  and  all  the 
nobles  heard  of  it.  Then  came  the  nobles  to  Pwyll 
and  besought  him  to  put  away  his  wife,  because  of 
the  great  crime  she  had  done.  But  Pwyll  answered 
them  that  they  had  no  cause  to  ask  him  to  put 
away  his  wife,  for  he  did  not  believe  her  guilty  of 
any  wrong;  but  if  she  could  not  prove  her  inno- 
cence let  her  do  penance  for  it. 

So  Rhiannon  finding  she  could  not  contend 
against  the  six  women  was  obliged  to  take  a  pen- 
ance for  the  fault  with  which  she  was  charged.  And 

215 


TOonfcer  Stories 

the  penance  that  was  imposed  upon  her  was  that 
she  should  remain  in  that  palace  of  Narberth  until 
the  end  of  seven  years,  and  that  she  should  sit 
every  day  near  unto  a  horseblock  that  was  without 
the  gate.  And  that  she  should  relate  the  story  to 
all  who  should  come  there,  whom  she  might  sup- 
pose not  to  know  it  already;  and  that  she  should 
offer  the  guests  and  strangers,  if  they  would  per- 
mit her,  to  carry  them  upon  her  back  into  the  pal- 
ace. And  thus  did  she  spend  part  of  the  year;  but 
it  rarely  happened  that  any  would  permit  her  to 
carry  them  to  the  castle. 

Now  at  that  time  there  lived  in  the  land,  Tiern- 
yon  Twyrv  Vliant,  who  was  Lord  of  Gwent;  and 
he  was  said  to  be  the  best  man  in  the  world.  And 
he  had  a  beautiful  horse  that  often  brought  him  a 
colt,  but  as  soon  as  the  colt  was  born  it  immedi- 
ately disappeared.  So  one  night  he  determined  to 
watch  and  see  what  became  of  the  colt.  As  soon 
as  the  colt  was  born  he  rose  to  look  upon  it,  when 
he  heard  a  great  tumult,  and  after  the  tumult  be- 
hold a  claw  came  through  the  window  into  the 
house,  and  it  seized  the  colt  by  the  mane. 

Then  Teirnyon  drew  his  sword  and  struck  off 
the  arm  at  the  elbow,  so  that  a  portion  of  the  arm 
together  with  the  colt  was  in  the  house  with  him. 
And  then  did  he  hear  a  tumult  and  wailing,  both 
at  once.  At  this  he  opened  the  door  and  rushed 
out  in  the  direction  of  the  noise,  but  he  could  not 
see  the  cause  of  the  tumult  because  of  the  darkness 

216 


jfrom  tbe 

of  the  night.  Then  he  rushed  out  after  it  and  foU 
lowed  it  for  a  long  distance.  After  a  while  he  re- 
membered that  he  had  left  the  door  open  and  he 
returned  to  the  house;  and  at  the  door  behold 
there  was  an  infant  boy  in  swaddling  clothes, 
wrapped  around  in  a  mantle  of  satin.  Taking  up 
the  boy  in  his  arms  he  found  that  he  was  very 
strong  for  the  age  that  he  seemed. 

He  then  shut  the  door  and  went  into  the  cham- 
ber where  his  wife  was,  saying,  "Lady,  art  thou 
sleeping?" 

"No,  lord,"  said  she,  "I  was  asleep,  but  as  thou 
earnest  in  I  did  awake." 

"Behold,  here  is  a  boy  for  thee,"  he  said,  "if  thou 
wilt  have  him." 

"My  lord,"  said  she,  "what  adventure  is  this?" 

"It  was  this,"  said  Tiernyon;  and  he  told  her 
how  it  all  befell. 

Then  she  asked  him  what  garments  the  child  had 
on;  and  he  told  her  "a  mantle  of  satin." 

"He  is  then  a  boy  of  gentle  lineage,"  she  re- 
plied. 

Then  they  agreed  to  keep  the  boy  as  their  own; 
and  they  caused  him  to  be  baptized;  and  the  name 
which  they  gave  unto  him  was  Gwri  Wallt  Euryn, 
because  what  hair  was  upon  his  head  was  as  yel- 
low as  gold.  They  had  the  boy  nursed  in  court  un- 
til he  was  a  year  old;  and  before  the  year  was  over 
he  could  walk  stoutly.  He  grew  so  rapidly  that 
within  the  year  he  was  larger  than  a  boy  three 

217 


"Cdonfcer  Storte0 

years  of  age,  even  one  of  unusual  growth  and  size. 
And  at  the  end  of  the  second  year  he  was  as  large 
and  as  strong  as  a  child  six  years  of  age..  And  be- 
fore the  end  of  the  fourth  year  he  would  bribe  the 
grooms  to  allow  him  to  take  the  horses  to  water. 

One  day  his  wife  said  unto  Teirnyon,  "My  lord, 
where  is  the  colt  that  thou  didst  save  on  the  night 
that  thou  didst  find  the  boy?" 

"I  have  given  it,"  he  said,  "unto  the  care  of  the 
grooms." 

"Would  it  not  be  well,  lord,"  said  she,  "if  thou 
wast  to  cause  it  to  be  broken  in,  and  given  to  the 
boy,  seeing  that  on  the  same  night  that  thou  didst 
find  the  boy,  the  colt  was  foaled  and  thou  didst 
save  him?" 

"I  will  not  oppose  thee  in  this  matter,"  said 
Teirnyon,  "but  allow  thee  to  give  him  the  colt." 

"May  Heaven  reward  thee,  lord,"  she  said,  "and 
I  will  give  him  the  colt." 

So  the  horse  was  given  to  the  boy;  and  the 
grooms  were  commanded  to  be  careful  of  the  horse 
so  that  he  might  be  broken  in  by  the  time  that  the 
boy  could  ride  him. 

Now  while  these  things  were  going  forward  they 
heard  tidings  of  Rhiannon  and  her  punishment. 
And  Teirnyon,  by  reason  of  the  pity  he  felt  on  hear- 
ing the  story  of  Rhiannon,  inquired  closely  con- 
cerning it,  until  he  heard  the  story  from  many  of 
those  who  came  to  his  court.  Then  did  Tiernyon, 
lamenting  the  sad  history,  often  ponder  within 

218 


Jtom  tbc  n&abinooiott 

himself;  and  as  he  looked  at  the  boy  it  seemed  to 
him  that  he  had  never  beheld  so  great  a  likeness 
between  the  father  and  son  as  between  Pwyll  and 
the  boy.  Thereupon  he  became  grieved  for  the 
wrong  that  he  did,  in  keeping  with  him  a  boy  whom 
he  knew  to  be  the  son  of  another  man.  So  the  first 
time  that  he  was  alone  with  his  wife  he  told  her 
what  he  thought,  that  it  was  not  right  that  they 
should  keep  the  boy  with  them,  and  suffer  so  ex- 
cellent a  lady  as  Rhiannon  to  be  punished  so 
greatly  on  his  account.  And  Teirnyon's  wife 
agreed  with  him  and  said  that  they  should  send  the 
boy  to  Pwyll. 

So  no  later  than  the  next  day  Teirnyon  equipped 
himself,  and  taking  two  other  knights  with  him, 
started  to  the  court  of  Pwyll.  And  the  boy,  riding 
on  the  young  horse  which  Teirnyon  had  given  to 
him,  went  with  them.  Their  journey  lay  toward 
Narberth;  and  it  was  not  long  before  they  reached 
that  place.  As  they  drew  near  to  the  palace  they 
saw  Rhiannon  sitting  beside  the  horseblock  doing 
her  penance.  And  when  they  were  opposite  to  her 
she  said,  "Chieftain,  go  not  further  thus,  I  will  bear 
every  one  of  you  on  my  back  into  the  palace,  and 
this  is  my  penance  for  being  charged  with  slaying 
my  son." 

"Oh,  fair  lady,"  said  Teirnyon,  "think  not  that 
I  will  be  one  to  be  carried  upon  thy  back." 

"Neither  will  I,"  said  the  boy. 

So  they  all  went  forward  toward  the  palace;  and 

219 


TUlonbet  Stories 

there  was  great  joy  at  their  coming.  At  the  palace 
there  was  a  feast  prepared,  because  Pwyll  had  just 
come  back  from  the  confines  of  Dyved;  and  Pwyil 
was  rejoiced  to  see  Teirnyon.  Going  into  the  hall 
they  washed  themselves  and  prepared  to  sit  down 
to  the  feast.  When  they  sat  down  at  the  table, 
this  was  the  order  in  which  they  sat :  Teirnyon  be- 
tween Pwyll  and  Rhiannon,  and  Teirnyon's  two 
companions  on  the  other  side  of  Pwyll,  and  the  boy 
between  them.  And  after  meat  they  began  to 
carouse  and  discourse  as  was  the  custom  of  the 
time.  Then  Teirnyon  told  them  the  adventure  of 
the  colt  and  of  the  boy,  and  how  he  and  his  wife 
had  nursed  and  reared  the  child  as  their  son. 

Then  turning  to  Rhiannon  he  said,  "Behold, 
lady,  here  is  thy  son;  and  whosoever  told  that  lie 
concerning  thee  hath  done  thee  a  great  wrong. 
And  when  I  heard  of  thy  sorrow  I  was  troubled 
and  grieved,  believing  the  boy  was  thy  son,  and  I 
resolved  to  bring  him  to  thee.  And  I  believe  that 
there  is  none  of  this  host  who  will  not  perceive  that 
the  boy  is  the  son  of  Pwyll." 

At  this  they  all  looked  upon  the  boy  and  at 
Pwyll,  and  they  said,  "There  is  none  here  who  is 
not  certain  thereof." 

Then  Rhiannon  rose  and  went  to  the  boy  and 
clasped  him  in  her  arms  and  kissed  him  many 
times,  and  said,  "I  declare  to  Heaven  if  this  be 
true,  then  there  is  indeed  an  end  to  my  trouble, 

220 


Jtom  tbe  n&abfnosfon 

and  my  son's  name  shall  be  Pryderi,  for  the  sor- 
row I  have  had." 

Then  there  was  great  rejoicing  among  them  all. 
And  Pendaran  Dyved  said,  "Lady,  well  hast  thou 
named  thy  son  Pryderi,  meaning  anxiety;  and  well 
becomes  he  the  name  of  Pryderi,  son  of  Pwyll, 
Chief  of  Annwvyn." 

"Look  you,"  said  Rhiannon,  "will  not  his  own 
name  become  him  better?" 

"What  name  has  he  ?"  asked  Pendaran  Dyved. 

"Gwri  Wallt  Euryn  is  the  name  that  we  gave 
him,"  said  Teirnyon. 

"Pryderi,"  said  Pendaran,  "shall  his  name  be." 

"It  is  more  proper,"  said  Pwyll,  "that  the  boy 
should  take  his  name  from  the  word  his  mother 
spoke  when  she  received  the  joyful  tiding  of  him." 
And  thus  it  was  arranged. 

Then  Pwyll  said,  "Teirnyon,  may  Heaven  re- 
ward thee  that  thou  hast  reared  the  boy  up  to  this 
time,  and  being  of  gentle  lineage,  it  were  fitting 
that  he  should  repay  thee  for  it." 

"My  lord,"  said  Teirnyon,  "it  was  my  wife  who 
nursed  him,  and  there  is  no  one  in  the  world  so 
afflicted  as  she  is  at  parting  with  him.  It  were  well 
that  he  should  bear  in  mind  what  I  and  my  wife 
have  done  for  him." 

"I  call  Heaven  to  witness,"  said  Pwyll,  "that 
while  I  live  I  will  support  thee  and  thy  possessions, 
as  long  as  I  am  able  to  preserve  my  own.  And 
when  he  shall  have  power,  he  will  more  fitly  main- 

221 


"Cdcmfcer  Storied 

tain  them  than  I.  And  now  if  this  counsel  shall  be 
pleasing  unto  thee,  and  to  my  nobles,  I  will  give 
him  to  be  brought  up  by  Pendaran  Dyved,  from 
henceforth.  And  you  shall  be  companions,  and 
shall  both  be  foster-fathers  unto  him." 

"This  is  good  counsel,"  said  they  all.  So  the 
boy  was  given  to  Pendaran  Dyved,  and  the  nobles 
of  the  land  were  sent  with  him.  And  Teirnyon  and 
his  companions  set  out  for  their  own  country  with 
joy  and  gladness.  And  though  he  was  offered  the 
fairest  jewels  and  the  fastest  horses  and  the 
choicest  dogs,  he  would  take  none  of  them. 

And  Pryderi,  the  son  of  Pwyll,  was  brought  up 
carefully  as  was  fitting  for  a  prince  so  that  he  be- 
came the  fairest  youth,  and  the  most  comely,  and 
the  best  skilled  in  all  good  games,  of  any  in  the 
kingdom.  And  thus  passed  years  and  years,  until 
the  end  of  Pwyll's  life  came,  and  he  died. 

And  Pryderi  ruled  the  seven  Cantrevs  of  Dyved 
prosperously,  and  he  was  beloved  by  his  people, 
and  by  all  around  him.  And  he  added  unto  his 
possessions  many  other  Cantrevs  until  he  was  ruler 
of  a  large  country.  In  course  of  time  he  desired 
to  take  a  wife;  and  the  wife  he  chose  was  Kicva, 
the  daughter  of  Gwynn  Gohoyw,  the  son  of  Glowy 
Wallt  Lydan,  the  son  of  Prince  Casnar,  one  of  the 
nobles  of  the  island. 

This  story  is  abridged  from  the  original  by  omitting 
a.  first  part  that  is  of  little  interest,  and  that  has  no 
connection  with  portion  that  is  given.  Its  underlying 

222 


from  the  HDalrinogfon 

motive  seems  to  be  to  portray  an  act  of  justice  to  a  true 
and  faithful  woman  who  has  been  wronged  by  an  act  of 
treachery.  The  name  Pwyll  means  literally  Prudence. 

After  the  death  of  Pwyll,  Rhiannon  was  bestowed,  by 
her  son  Pryderi,  in  marriage  upon  Manawyddan,  the  son 
of  Llyr,  as  will  be  seen  in  the  story  that  bears  his  name. 
Her  marvellous  birds  whose  notes  were  so  sweet  that 
warriors  remained  spell-bound  for  eighty  years  listening 
to  them  have  been  a  frequent  theme  with  the  poets. 


323 


HSrantoen,  tfye  dDaugfytet  of 
Chapter  I 


ISrantoetv  bee  atnt 


oC 


tl). 


ANY  years  ago  Bendigied  Vran,  the  son 
of  Llyr,  was  the  King  of  the  islan4 
called  the  Island  of  the  Mighty.  One  af- 
ternoon he  sat  upon  a  rock  looking  over  the  sea, 
and  with  him  were  his  brother  Manawyddan,  the 
son  of  Llyr,  and  his  brothers  by  his  mother's  side 
named  Nissyen  and  Evnissyen,  and  many  nobles 
likewise  as  was  fitting  to  see  around  a  king.  One 
of  these  brothers,  Nissyen,  was  a  goodly  youth  of 
a  gentle  and  peaceful  nature  who  loved  to  live  in 
peace  with  all  men;  while  the  other,  Evnissyen, 
loved  rather  to  cause  strife  between  those  with 
whom  he  lived. 

As  they  thus  sat  upon  the  rock,  they  beheld  thir- 
teen ships  coming  from  the  south  of  Ireland,  and 
making  towards  them  with  a  swift  motion.  "I  see 
ships  afar,"  said  the  king,  "coming  swiftly  toward 
the  land.  Command  the  men  of  the  court  to  equip 
themselves  and  go  and  learn  their  intent." 

So  the  men  equipped  themselves  and  went  down 
toward  the  shore;  and  when  they  saw  the  ships 

224 


JJtom  tbe  flDairinogion 

near,  they  were  surprised  at  their  size  and  beauty. 
One  of  the  ships  was  larger  than  the  others,  and 
upon  it  was  a  large  shield  lifted  up  above  the  side 
of  the  ship,  and  the  point  of  the  shield  was  upward 
as  a  token  of  peace. 

As  the  ships  came  near  the  shore  the  men  on 
them  put  out  in  boats  and  came  toward  the  land. 
As  soon  as  they  came  near  enough  they  saluted  the 
king. 

"Heaven  prosper  you,"  said  the  king,  "and  be 
ye  welcome.  To  whom  do  these  ships  belong,  and 
who  is  your  chief?" 

"Lord,"  they  replied,  "Matholwch,  King  of  Ire- 
land, is  here,  and  these  ships  belong  to  him." 

"Wherefore  comes  he?"  asked  the  king,  "and 
will  he  come  to  the  land?" 

"He  is  suitor  unto  thee,  lord,"  said  they;  "and 
he  will  not  land  unless  he  have  his  boon." 

"And  what  may  be  his  boon?"  inquired  the 
king. 

"He  desires  to  ally  himself  with  thee,  lord,"  said 
they,  "and  he  comes  to  ask  Branwen,  the  daughter 
of  Llyr,  to  be  his  wife,  that,  if  it  seem  well  to  thee, 
the  Island  of  the  Mighty  may  be  leagued  with  Ire- 
land, and  both  become  more  powerful." 

"Verily,"  said  the  king,  "let  him  come  to  land, 
and  we  will  take  counsel  thereupon." 

When  this  answer  was  brought  to  Matholwch  he 
said,  "I  will  go  willingly." 

So  he  came  with  his  men  to  the  shore,  and  the 

225 


TOonfcer  Stories 

king  and  his  people  received  him  joyfully;  and 
great  was  the  throng  in  the  palace  that  night  be- 
tween his  hosts  and  those  of  the  court. 

The  next  day  they  took  counsel  together  and 
the  king  resolved  to  bestow  Branwen  to  be  the 
wife  of  Matholwch.  Now  she  was  one  of  the  three 
chief  ladies  of  this  island,  and  she  was  said  to  be 
the  fairest  damsel  in  the  world.  So  a  banquet  was 
prepared  there  under  great  tents,  as  no  house  was 
large  enough  to  contain  Bendigeid  Vran;  and 
there  amid  great  pomp  Branwen  became  the 
bride  of  Matholwch. 

The  next  day  they  arose,  and  all  they  of  the 
court;  and  the  officers  began  to  equip  and  arrange 
the  horses  and  the  attendants;  and  they  ranged 
them  in  order  as  far  as  the  sea. 

And  behold  soon  after,  Evnissyen,  the  quarrel- 
some one,  came  by  chance  to  that  place  where  the 
horses  of  Matholwch  were;  and  he  asked  whose 
horses  they  might  be.  And  they  told  him  that 
they  were  the  horses  of  Matholwch,  King  of  Ire- 
land, who  had  been  married  to  his  sister  Branwen. 
When  he  heard  this  he  was  angry  that  they  had 
given  his  sister  in  marriage  without  his  knowledge 
or  consent.  And  thereupon  he  rushed  under  the 
horses  and  cut  off  their  lips  at  their  teeth,  and  their 
ears  close  to  their  heads,  and  their  tails  close  to 
their  backs;  and  wherever  he  could  clutch  their 
eyelids,  he  cut  them  to  the  very  bone;  and  thus  he 
disfigured  the  horses  and  rendered  them  useless. 

226 


from  the  n&abinogion 

And  they  came  with  these  tidings  to  Matholwch, 
saying  that  the  horses  were  disfigured  and  so  in- 
jured that  not  one  of  them  could  be  of  any  use 
again.  "Verily,  lord,"  said  one,  "it  is  an  insult  unto 
you,  and  so  it  was  meant." 

"It  is  a  marvel  to  me,"  he  replied,  "that  if  they 
desired  to  insult  me  they  should  have  given  me  a 
maiden  of  such  high  rank  and  so  beloved  by  them 
all." 

"Lord,"  said  another,  "it  is  certain  that  it  is  an 
insult,  and  there  is  nothing  for  thee  to  do  but  to 
go  to  thy  ships."  And  thereupon  he  set  out  for 
his  ships. 

Soon  the  tidings  came  to  Bendigeid  Vran  that 
Matholwch  was  quitting  the  court  without  taking 
leave;  and  messengers  were  sent  to  inquire  of  him 
wherefore  he  did  so.  He  replied,  "I  have  been 
greatly  insulted;  but  one  thing  surprises  me,  that 
you  should  have  given  me  Branwen,  the  king's  sis- 
ter, for  a  bride  and  then  have  done  me  this  insult." 

"Truly,  lord,"  said  the  messenger,  "it  was  not 
the  will  of  the  king  or  the  court  that  thou  shouldst 
be  insulted,  and  the  dishonor  is  greater  unto  Ben- 
digeid Vran  than  unto  thee." 

"Truly,"  said  he,  "I  think  so;  nevertheless  he 
cannot  recall  the  insult." 

And  when  he  would  not  return  they  sent  another 
embassy  after  him  to  persuade  him  to  return.  And 
they  offered  him  a  sound  horse  for  every  one  that 
had  been  injured.  And  beside  that,  as  an  atone- 

227 


ment  for  the  insult,  they  said  that  he  should  have 
a  staff  of  silver  as  large  and  tall  as  himself,  and  a 
plate  of  gold  the  breadth  of  his  face. 

And  the  king  said,  "Show  him  also  who  it  was 
that  did  the  deed,  and  that  it  was  against  my  will; 
but  that  he  who  did  it  is  my  brother  and  therefore 
it  would  be  hard  for  me  to  put  him  to  death.  And 
let  him  come  and  meet  me,  and  we  will  make  peace 
in  any  way  he  may  desire." 

Thus  they  pleaded  with  him  to  return,  saying 
they  would  atone  for  the  insult  in  every  way  in 
their  power.  So  at  length  he  decided  to  accept 
the  offers  of  atonement  and  to  return  to  the  court. 
Then  the  pavilions  and  the  tents  were  set  in  order 
after  the  fashion  of  a  hall,  and  they  sat  down  to 
the  feast  as  before.  And  as  they  talked  Bendigeid 
Vran  thought  that  Matholwch  was  not  as  cheerful 
as  he  was  before  and  that  it  was  because  of  the 
smallness  of  the  atonement  that  had  been  made. 
So  he  said  to  him  that  he  would  pay  him  not  only 
for  his  horses,  but  give  him  beside  a  cauldron,  the 
property  of  which  was  that  if  any  one  was  slain 
and  cast  therein,  on  the  morrow  he  would  be  as 
well  as  ever,  except  that  he  would  not  regain  his 
speech.  So  the  next  morning  the  king  gave  Ma- 
tholwch the  horses  and  the  cauldron  as  was  prom- 
ised 

That  night  they  held  a  feast  again  with  min- 
strelsy and  dancing,  and  when  it  was  more  pleas- 
ant for  them  to  sleep  than  to  sit  longer,  they  went 

228 


'"'  r' '  ill  "SiV"r'ria  II  'r 


tier  cau6cb  ttjc  butctyr  to  come  to 
ll e r  e t) c r D  doj)  ant  gnu  t^ er  a  bloto j? 


Jfrom  tbc  HDabinoQion 

to  rest.  Now  when  the  feastings  were  all  finished 
Matholwch  sailed  for  Ireland  and  Branwen  with 
him.  And  in  Ireland  there  was  great  joy  at  their 
coming.  And  they  welcomed  Branwen  full  cor- 
dially; and  there  was  not  a  great  man  or  a  noble 
lady  to  whom  she  did  not  give  either  a  clasp,  or  a 
ring,  or  a  royal  jewel.  And  thus  she  passed  the 
time  pleasantly  for  a  year  or  more  enjoying  the 
honor  and  the  friendship  of  her  people.  And  in 
due  time  a  son  was  born,  and  the  name  they  gave 
him  was  Gwern,  the  son  of  Matholwch. 

But  behold  in  the  second  year,  word  was 
brought  to  the  court  of  Matholwch  of  the  treat- 
ment he  had  received  in  Britain;  and  a  tumult 
arose  throughout  Ireland  on  account  of  the  insult 
which  he  had  received  in  Cambria  and  the  pay- 
ment made  him  for  his  horses.  And  his  foster 
brothers  and  such  as  were  nearest  unto  him  blamed 
him  openly  that  he  would  submit  to  such  treat- 
ment. And  he  had  no  peace  by  reason  of  the  tu- 
mult they  made  that  he  should  avenge  this  great 
disgrace.  And  the  vengeance  which  they  took  was 
to  drive  away  Branwen  from  the  palace  chambers 
and  make  her  cook  for  the  court.  And  moreover 
they  caused  the  butcher  after  he  had  cut  up  the 
meat  to  come  to  her  every  day  and  give  her  a 
blow  on  the  ear.  And  such  they  made  her  punish- 
ment for  the  insult  that  Matholwch  had  received 
in  the  Isle  of  Britain. 

Moreover  they  said  to  Matholwch,  "Verily,  lord, 

229 


TOlotfter  Stories 

forbid  now  the  ships  and  the  ferry  boats  that  they 
go  not  unto  Wales;  and  such  as  come  over  from 
Wales  hither  do  thou  imprison  them  that  they  go 
not  back  again."  And  so  he  did;  and  thus  it  was 
for  no  less  than  three  years. 

Meanwhile  Branwen  thought  how  she  might  ac- 
quaint her  people  of  the  insults  heaped  upon  her. 
So  she  reared  a  starling  in  the  cover  of  the  knead- 
ing trough,  and  she  taught  it  to  speak,  and  also 
to  know  what  kind  of  man  her  brother  was.  And 
she  wrote  a  letter  telling  of  her  woes,  and  the  de- 
spite with  which  she  was  treated;  and  she  bound 
the  letter  to  the  root  of  the  bird's  wing,  and  sent 
him  towards  Britain.  And  the  bird  came  to  that 
island,  and  one  day  it  found  Bendigeid,  and 
alighted  upon  his  shoulder  and  ruffled  its  feathers, 
so  that  the  letter  was  seen. 

Then  Bendigeid  Vran  took  the  letter;  and  when 
he  had  read  it  he  was  grieved  exceedingly  at  the 
tidings  of  Branwen's  woes.  And  he  immediately 
began  sending  messengers  throughout  the  land  to 
summon  the  people  of  the  island  together.  And 
when  they  had  come  he  told  them  of  the  grief  and 
despite  that  his  sister  endured.  Then  they  took 
counsel  together  and  resolved  to  go  to  Ireland, 
and  to  leave  seven  men  as  princes  at  home  to  take 
charge  of  the  island.  And  Caradawc,  the  son  of 
Bran,  was  the  chief  among  the  princes. 

Then  they  took  ships  and  manned  them  with 
their  knights  and  nobles  and  set  sail  for  Ireland. 

230 


Jtom  tbc  flDabfnogton 

As  they  came  near  the  island,  the  swineherds  of 
Matholwch  were  upon  the  shore;  and  having  never 
seen  ships  before  they  were  struck  with  awe  at  the 
sight.  And  they  came  to  Matholwch  saying, 
"Heaven  protect  thee,  for  we  have  seen  a  marvel- 
ous thing, — a  wood  upon  the  sea  in  a  place  where 
we  never  before  have  seen  a  single  tree." 

This  is  indeed  a  marvel,"  said  Matholwch;  "saw 
you  aught  else?" 

"We  saw,  lord,"  they  said,  "a  vast  mountain  be- 
side the  wood,  which  moved,  and  there  was  a  lofty 
ridge  on  the  top  of  the  mountain,  and  a  lake  on 
each  side  of  the  ridge.  And  the  wood  and  the 
mountain,  and  all  these  things  moved." 

"Verily,"  said  he,  "there  is  none  who  can  know 
what  all  this  means,  unless  it  be  Branwen." 

So  they  sent  for  Branwen;  and  when  she  came 
they  said  to  her,  "Lady,  what  thinkest  thou  that 
this  is?" 

And  she  said,  "These  are  the  men  of  the  Island 
of  the  Mighty,  who  have  come  hither  on  hearing 
of  my  ill  treatment  and  my  sorrow." 

"What  is  the  forest  that  is  seen  upon  the  sea?" 
they  asked. 

"The  yards  and  the  masts  of  the  ships,"  she  an- 
swered. 

"Alas,"  said  they,  "what  is  the  mountain  that  is 
seen  by  the  side  of  the  ships?" 

"That  is  my  brother,  Bendigeid  Vran,"  she  re- 
plied, "coming  to  shoal  water;  and  he  is  wading  to 


TOonfcer  Storiee 

the  land,  for  he  is  so  large  that  there  is  no  ship  that 
can  contain  him." 

"What  is  the  lofty  ridge  with  the  lake  on  each 
side  thereof?"  they  asked. 

"On  looking  towards  this  island  he  is  wroth; 
and  his  two  eyes,  one  on  each  side  of  his  nose,  are 
the  two  lakes  on  each  side  of  the  ridge." 

Then  the  warriors  and  chief  men  of  Ireland  were 
brought  together  in  great  haste;  and  they  took 
counsel  together  as  to  what  they  should  do.  And 
the  nobles  said  unto  Matholwch  that  they  should 
retreat  over  the  river  Linon,  and  should  break 
down  the  bridge  that  is  across  the  river,  and  thus 
keep  the  river  between  them  and  their  foe.  So 
they  retreated  across  the  river  and  broke  down 
the  bridge.  Now  there  was  loadstone  at  the  bot- 
tom of  this  river  so  that  neither  ship  nor  vessel 
could  pass  over  it. 

Soon  Bendigeid  Vran  came  to  land  and  the  fleet 
with  him,  by  the  bank  of  the  river.  And  his  chief- 
tains said,  "Lord,  thou  knowest  the  nature  of  this 
river,  that  nothing  can  go  across  it,  and  there  is 
no  bridge  over  it.  Now  what  is  thy  counsel  con- 
cerning a  bridge?" 

"There  is  none,"  said  he,  "except  that  he  who 
will  be  chief,  let  him  be  a  bridge.  And  I  will  be 
so  myself,"  he  said. 

So  he  lay  down  across  the  river,  and  hurdles 
were  placed  upon  him,  and  the  host  passed  over 
thereby.  As  he  rose  up,  behold  the  messengers  of 

232 


fftom  tbe  HDaWnoafon 

Matholwch  came  to  him  and  saluted  him  and  gave 
him  greeting  in  the  name  of  Matholwch,  and 
showed  him  that  of  his  good  will  he  had  merited 
nothing  of  him  but  good.  "For  Matholwch," 
they  said,  "has  given  the  kingdom  of  Ireland  to 
Gwern,  the  son  of  Matholwch,  thy  nephew  and  thy 
sister's  son.  And  this  he  hath  done  as  a  compensa- 
tion for  the  wrong  and  despite  that  has  been  done 
to  Branwen." 

Then  said  Bendigeid,  "Shall  not  I  myself  have 
the  kingdom  ?  If  so,  then  peradventure  I  may  take 
counsel  concerning  your  message.  From  this  time 
until  then  no  other  answer  will  you  get  from  me." 

"Verily,"  they  answered,  "the  best  message  that 
we  receive  for  thee  we  will  convey  it  unto  thee, 
and  do  thou  await  our  message  unto  Matholwch." 

"I  will  wait,"  answered  he,  "and  do  you  return 
quickly." 

So  the  messengers  set  forth  and  came  to  Ma- 
tholwch, and  said,  "Lord,  prepare  a  better  mes- 
sage for  Bendigeid  Vran.  He  would  not  listen  at 
all  to  the  message  that  we  bore  him." 

"My  friends,"  said  Matholwch,  "what  may  be 
your  counsel?" 

"Lord,"  said  they,  "our  counsel  is  that  as  on  ac- 
count of  his  great  size  he  hath  never  been  in  a 
house,  that  thou  make  a  house  that  will  contain 
him  and  the  men  with  him;  he  and  his  host  on  one 
side,  and  thyself  and  thy  host  on  the  other  side; 

233 


TOonfcer  Stories 

and  give  over  thy  kingdom  to  his  will  and  pay 
him  homage." 

So  the  messengers  went  back  to  Bedigeid  Vran, 
bearing  him  this  message.  And  he  took  counsel 
and  it  was  resolved  to  accept  this  offer.  And  this 
was  all  done  by  the  advice  of  Branwen,  lest  the 
country  should  be  destroyed.  And  thus  peace  was 
made;  and  the  house  was  built,  both  vast  and 
strong  and  large  enough  to  contain  Bendigeid. 


234 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  SAD  FATE  OF  BRANWEN  AND  HER  SON 

NOW  the  Irish  planned  a  crafty  device,  and 
the  craft  was  that  they  should  put  brackets 
on  each  side  of  the  hundred  pillars  that 
were  in  the  house,  and  should  place  a  leathern  bag 
on  each  bracket,  and  an  armed  man  in  every  one 
of  the  leathern  bags.  Thus  did  they  plan  to  de- 
stroy the  men  of  the  Island  of  the  Mighty. 

Then  Evnissyen  came  in  before  the  host  of  the 
Island  of  the  Mighty,  and  scanned  the  house  with 
fierce  and  savage  looks,  and  descried  the  leathern 
bags  which  were  around  the  pillars. 

"What  is  in  this  bag?"  asked  he  of  one  of  the 
Irish. 

"Meal,  good  soul,"  he  replied. 

And  Evnissyen  felt  about  it  until  he  came  to  the 
man's  head,  and  he  squeezed  the  head  until  he  felt 
his  fingers  meet  together  through  the  bone. 

And  he  left  that  one  and  went  to  another,  and 
asked  what  was  therein. 

"Meal,"  said  the  Irishman.  And  Evnissyen  felt 
about  as  before  until  he  found  the  head  and 
crushed  it.  So  he  did  the  like  unto  every  one  of 
them,  until  he  had  left  alive  only  one  of  all  the  two 

235 


OTonfccr  Stories 

hundred  men.  And  when  he  came  to  the  last  one 
he  asked  what  was  there.  And  the  Irishman  an- 
swered as  before,  saying,  "Meal,  good  soul." 

And  he  felt  about  as  before  until  he  felt  the  head, 
and  he  found  that  the  head  of  this  one  was  armed; 
nevertheless  he  squeezed  it  until  he  had  killed  him. 
And  then  he  sang  a  song: 

"There  is  in  this  bag  a  different  sort  of  meal, 
The  ready  combatant,  when  the  assault  is  made 
By  his  fellow  wariors,  prepared  for  battle." 

Thereupon  the  hosts  came  unto  the  house;  the 
men  of  the  Island  of  Ireland  entering  the  house  on 
the  one  side  and  the  men  of  Bendigeid  of  the 
Island  of  the  Mighty  on  the  other  side.  And  as 
soon  as  they  had  sat  down  there  was  concord  be- 
tween them,  and  the  sovereignty  was  conferred 
upon  the  boy,  the  son  of  Branwen.  When  the 
peace  was  thus  concluded  Bendigeid  called  the 
boy  unto  him,  and  from  Bendigeid  the  boy  went 
unto  Manawyddan,  and  he  was  beloved  by  all  who 
beheld  him. 

Then  Nissyen  called  the  boy  unto  him,  and  the 
boy  went  unto  him  lovingly,  and  Nissyen  caressed 
him  with  much  affection.  And  Evnissyen  said, 
"Wherefore  comes  not  my  nephew,  the  son  of  my 
sister,  unto  me  ?  Though  he  were  not  king  of  Ire- 
land yet  willingly  would  I  fondle  the  boy." 

"Cheerfully  let  him  go  unto  thee,"  said  Bendi- 
geid Vran,  and  the  boy  went  unto  him  cheerfully. 

236 


from  tbe  flDabtnofiton 

Then  Evnissyen  arose  and  took  up  the  boy  by 
the  feet,  and  before  any  one  in  the  house  could 
seize  hold  of  him,  he  thrust  the  boy  headlong  into 
the  blazing  fire.  And  when  Branwen  saw  her  son 
burning  in  the  fire,  she  strove  to  leap  into  the  fire 
also,  from  the  place  where  she  sat  between  her 
two  brothers.  But  Bendigeid  Vran  grasped  her 
with  one  hand  and  his  shield  with  the  other.  Then 
they  all  arose  and  hurried  about  the  house,  and 
never  was  there  made  so  great  a  tumult  by  any 
host  in  one  house  as  was  made  by  them,  as  each 
man  armed  himself.  And  while  they  all  sought 
their  arms,  Bendigeid  Vran  supported  Branwen 
between  his  shield  and  his  shoulder,  while  the  con- 
flict waged  with  great  fury. 

Then  the  Irish  kindled  a  fire  under  the  cauldron 
of  renovation,  and  they  cast  the  dead  bodies  into 
the  cauldron  until  it  was  full;  and  the  next  day  they 
came  forth  fighting  men  as  good  as  before,  except 
that  they  were  not  able  to  speak.  When  Evnissyen 
saw  the  dead  bodies  of  the  Island  of  the  Mighty 
nowhere  resuscitated,  he  said  in  his  heart,  "Alas! 
woe  is  me  that  I  should  have  been  the  cause  of 
bringing  the  men  of  the  Island  of  the  Mighty  unto 
so  great  a  strait.  Evil  betide  me  if  I  find  not  a  de- 
liverance therefrom." 

And  he  cast  himself  among  the  dead  bodies  of 
the  Irish;  and  two  unshod  Irishmen  came  to  him, 
and  taking  him  to  be  one  of  the  Irish,  they  flung 
him  into  the  cauldron.  And  he  stretched  himself 

237 


TOonfcer  Stories 

out  in  the  cauldron  so  that  he  burst  it  into  four 
pieces,  and  burst  his  own  heart  also. 

And  the  men  of  the  Island  of  the  Mighty  were 
defeated  and  all  slain  except  seven  men  who  es- 
caped. Now  the  men  who  escaped  were  Pryderi, 
Manawyddan,  Taliesin,  and  four  others.  And  in 
the  battle  Bendigeid  Vran  was  wounded  in  the  foot 
with  a  poisoned  arrow.  And  knowing  that  he 
could  not  live  Bendigeid  Vran  commanded  that 
they  should  cut  off  his  head.  "And  take  you  my 
head,"  he  said,  "and  bear  it  unto  the  White  Mount 
in  London,  and  bury  it  there  with  the  face  towards 
France.  And  a  long  time  you  will  be  upon  the 
road.  In  Harleck  you  will  be  feasting  seven  years; 
the  birds  of  Rhiannon  singing  unto  you  the  while. 
And  all  that  time  the  head  will  be  to  you  as  pleas- 
ant company  as  it  was  ever  upon  my  body.  And 
at  Gwales  in  Penvro  you  will  be  four  score  years, 
and  you  may  remain  there  until  you  open  the  door 
that  looks  toward  Aber  Henvelen  and  toward 
Cornwall.  And  after  you  have  opened  that  door, 
go  straight  forward  to  London  and  there  bury  my 
head." 

So  they  cut  off  his  head  and  these  seven  went 
forward  therewith.  And  Branwen  was  the  eighth 
with  them,  and  they  came  to  land  at  Aber  Alaw, 
and  there  sat  down  to  rest.  And  Branwen  looked 
towards  Ireland  and  towards  the  Island  of  the 
Mighty,  to  see  if  she  could  descry  them. 

"Alas,"  said  she,  "woe  is  me  that  I  was  ever 

238 


ftom  tbc  HDabinoaion 

born;  two  islands  have  been  destroyed  because  of 
me." 

Then  she  uttered  a  loud  groan,  and  there  broke 
her  heart.  And  they  made  her  a  four-sided  grave, 
and  buried  her  upon  the  banks  of  the  Alaw. 

Then  the  seven  men  journeyed  forward  towards 
Harlech,  bearing  the  head  with  them.  And  as  they 
journeyed  behold  there  met  them  a  multitude  of 
men  and  women. 

"Have  you  any  tidings  ?"  asked  Manawyddan. 

"We  have  none,"  they  answered,  "save  that  Cas- 
wallawn,  the  son  of  Beli,  has  conquered  the  Island 
of  the  Mighty,  and  is  crowned  king  in  London." 

"What  has  become,"  said  they,  "of  Caradawc, 
the  son  of  Bran,  and  the  seven  men  who  were  left 
with  him  in  this  island?" 

"Caswallawn  came  upon  them,  and  slew  six  of 
the  men,  and  Caradawc's  heart  broke  for  grief 
thereof;  for  he  could  see  the  sword  that  slew  the 
men,  but  knew  not  who  it  was  that  wielded  it.  For 
Caswallawn  had  flung  upon  him  the  Veil  of  Illu- 
sion, so  that  no  one  could  see  him  slay  the  men, 
but  the  sword  only  could  they  see.  And  it  liked 
him  not  to  slay  Caradawc,  because  he  was  his 
nephew,  the  son  of  his  cousin.  And  now  he  was 
the  third  whose  heart  had  broke  through  grief. 
And  Pendaran  Dyved,  who  had  remained  as  a 
young  page  with  these  men,  escaped  into  the 
wood,"  they  said. 

Then  the  seven  men  journeyed  on  to  Harlech, 


bearing  the  head  with  them.  And  when  they 
reached  that  place  they  stopped  there  to  rest;  and 
they  sat  down  to  eat  and  to  drink.  And  there  came 
three  birds  and  began  singing  unto  them  a  cer- 
tain song,  and  all  the  songs  they  had  ever  heard 
were  unpleasant  compared  thereto;  and  the  birds 
seemed  to  them  to  be  at  a  great  distance  from 
them  over  the  sea,  yet  they  appeared  as  distinct  as 
if  they  were  close  by.  And  at  this  place  they  con- 
tinued seven  years. 

At  the  close  of  the  seventh  year  they  went  forth 
to  Gwales  in  Penvro.  And  there  they  found  a  fair 
and  regal  spot  overlooking  the  ocean;  and  a  spaci- 
ous hall  was  therein.  And  they  went  into  the  hall, 
and  two  of  the  doors  were  open,  but  the  third  door 
was  closed, — that  which  looked  toward  Cornwall. 
And  there  they  remained  four  score  years  uncon- 
scious of  ever  having  spent  a  time  more  joyous  and 
mirthful.  And  they  were  not  more  weary  than 
when  first  they  came,  neither  did  they  know  the 
time  they  had  been  there.  And  it  was  not  more 
irksome  to  them  having  the  head  with  them,  than 
if  Bendigeid  Vran  had  been  with  them  himself. 

One  day  said  Heilyn,  the  son  of  Gwynn,  "Evil 
betide  me,  if  I  do  not  open  the  door  to  know  if 
that  is  true  which  hath  been  said  concerning  it." 

So  he  opened  the  door  and  looked  toward  Corn- 
wall and  Aber  Henvelen.  And  when  they  had 
looked,  they  were  as  conscious  of  all  the  evils  they 
had  ever  sustained,  and  of  all  the  friends  and  com- 

240 


jfrom  tbe  nDabinoafott 

panions  that  they  had  lost,  and  of  all  the  misery 
that  had  befallen  them,  as  if  it  had  all  happened  on 
that  very  spot;  and  especially  of  the  fate  of  their 
lord.  And  they  could  not  rest  any  longer,  but 
journeyed  forth  with  the  head  towards  London. 
And  there  they  buried  the  head  in  the  White 
Mount,  as  Bendigeid  Vran  had  commanded  them. 
And  so  long  as  it  was  thus  concealed  no  invasion 
from  across  the  sea  came  to  the  island. 

Thus  endeth  the  story  of  the  visit  to  the  Island 
of  the  Mighty  and  the  entertainment  of  Bendigeid 
Vran  when  the  hosts  went  over  to  Ireland  to 
avenge  the  wrong  to  Branwen,  and  concerning  the 
seven  years  banquet  in  Harlech,  and  the  singing  of 
the  birds  of  Rhiannon,  and  the  sojourning  of  the 
head  of  Bendigeid  Vran  for  the  space  of  four  score 
years. 

"The  beautiful  Branwen  (or  Bronwen,  "the  white- 
bosomed,"  as  she  is  more  frequently  called)  is  one  of  the 
most  popular  heroines  of  Welsh  romance.  No  less  cele- 
brated for  her  woes  than  for  her  charms,  we  find  that 
her  eventful  story  was  a  favorite  theme  with  the  bards 
and  poets  of  her  nation.  In  1813,  a  grave  containing  a 
funeral  urn  was  discovered  on  the  banks  of  the  river 

Glow  ?  in  which  there  is  every  reason  to  suppose, 

the  ashes  of  Bronwen  (White  Bosom),  the  daughter  of 
Llyr  and  aunt  to  the  great  Caractacus,  were  deposited."— 
Lady  Charlotte  Guest. 

The  Island  of  the  Mighty  is  one  of  the  many  names 
bestowed  upon  Britain  by  the  Welsh.  Caradaws,  better 
known  by  his  Latinised  name  of  Caractacus,  was  for  a 
numbers  of  years  a  captive  at  Rome.  He  is  extolled  In 

241 


OTonfcer  Stories 

Welsh  poetry  as  one  of  those  brave  princes  who,  by  reason 
of  their  valor,  could  never  be  overcome  save  by  treachery; 
and  the  treason  by  which  he  was  cast  into  the  hands  of 
his  enemies  is  often  alluded  to  in  Welsh  poetry  and  his- 
tory. 


242 


Gfc&totj)  of  S$anatopfoan  anb  tljc  QjKcc 
Chapter  I 

tin  an&)£rp&m  totrt  liost  in  tf)C  ^Afitcdai  tit 


OW  when  Manawyddan  had  buried  the 
head  of  Bendigeid  Vran,  as  related  in  the 
previous  story,  and  found  his  cousin  had 
seized  upon  his  possessions,  much  grief  and  heavi- 
ness came  upon  him  As  he  gazed  upon  the  town 
of  London  and  upon  his  companions,  he  heaved  a 
great  sigh  and  said,  "Alas,  woe  is  me,  for  there  is 
none  save  myself  without  a  home  and  a  resting 
place  this  night." 

"Lord,"  said  Pryderi,  "be  not  so  sorrowful.  Thy 
cousin  is  King  of  the  Island  of  the  Mighty,  and 
though  he  should  do  thee  wrong,  remember  thou 
hast  never  been  a  claimant  of  land  or  possessions, 
and  that  thou  art  the  third  disinherited  prince." 

"Yea,"  he  answered,  "but  although  this  man  is 
my  cousin,  it  grieveth  me  to  see  any  one  in  the 
place  of  my  brother,  Bendigeid  Vran;  neither  can 
I  be  happy  in  the  same  dwelling  with  him." 

"Wilt  thou  follow  the  counsel  of  another?"  said 
Pryderi. 

243 


Wonder 

"I  stand  in  need  of  counsel,"  he  answered,  "and 
what  may  that  counsel  be  ?" 

Then  Pryderi  said,  "Seven  Cantrevs  remain  unto 
me  wherein  Rhiannon,  my  mother,  dwells.  I  will 
bestow  her  upon  thee  as  thy  wife  and  the  seven 
Cantrevs  with  her.  There  are  no  possessions 
fairer  than  these;  and  when  Rhiannon  was  in  her 
prime  no  woman  was  fairer  than  she;  and  even  now 
her  aspect  is  not  uncomely." 

At  first  Manawyddan  declined  the  offer  with 
many  thanks;  but  as  he  thought  upon  it  he  said, 
"I  will  go  with  thee  to  see  Rhiannon  and  look  at 
thy  possessions." 

So  they  set  forth,  and  though  long  the  journey, 
they  came  at  length  to  Dyved,  where  Rhiannon 
dwelt.  And  a  feast  was  prepared  for  them  at  Nar- 
berth  by  Rhiannon  and  Kicva,  the  wife  of  Pryderi. 
As  Manawyddan.  sat  at  the  feast  and  talked  with 
Rhiannon  his  heart  became  warmed  toward  her, 
and  he  thought  he  had  never  beheld  any  lady  more 
full  of  grace  and  beauty  than  she. 

"Pryderi,"  said  he,  "I  will  that  it  be  as  thou 
didst  say." 

"What  saying  was  that,"  asked  Rhiannon. 

"Lady,"  said  Pryderi,  "I  did  offer  thee  as  a  wife 
to  Manawyddan,  the  son  of  Llyr." 

"By  that  promise  I  will  gladly  abide,'*  said 
Rhiannon. 

"Right  glad  am   I   also,"   said  Manawyddan; 

244 


Jfrom  tbe  flDalrinoaion 

"may  Heaven  reward  him  who  hath  shown  me  so 
great  friendship." 

And  so  before  the  feast  was  over  she  became 
the  bride  of  Manawyddan. 

Now  as  soon  as  the  wedding  feast  was  over  they 
all  four  began  to  make  the  circuit  of  Dyved,  and  to 
hunt  and  take  their  pleasure.  And  as  they  went 
throughout  the  country,  they  thought  they  had 
never  seen  lands  more  pleasant  to  live  in,  nor  bet- 
ter hunting  grounds,  nor  greater  plenty  of  honey 
and  fish.  And  such  was  the  friendship  of  these 
four  that  they  could  not  be  parted  from  one  an- 
other by  night  or  by  day. 

During  the  journey  Pryderi  went  to  Caswallawn 
at  Oxford  to  tender  his  homage  unto  him;  and 
honorable  was  his  reception  there  and  highly  was 
he  praised  for  offering  his  homage.  And  after  his 
return  Pryderi  and  Manawyddan  feasted  and  took 
their  ease  and  pleasure  for  many  days. 

Now  at  a  feast  at  Narberth  a  marvelous  thing  oc- 
curred. As  they  sat  one  day  at  table,  behold  there 
came  a  peal  of  thunder  and  a  violent  wind;  and 
there  came  upon  them  a  fall  of  mist  so  thick  that 
not  one  of  them  could  see  the  other.  And  after 
the  mist  passed  away  it  became  light  all  around 
again;  but  when  they  looked  toward  the  place 
where  they  were  wont  to  see  cattle,  and  herds,  and 
dwellings,  they  could  see  nothing,  neither  house 
nor  beast,  nor  smoke,  nor  fire,  nor  man,  nor  dwell- 
ing. The  houses  of  the  court  were  all  empty,  and 

245 


Stories 

neither  man  nor  beast  was  within  them.  And  thus 
there  were  only  four  of  them,  and  they  knew  not 
what  had  befallen  their  companions. 

"In  the  name  of  Heaven,"  cried  Manawyddan, 
"where  are  the  people  of  the  court  and  all  my  hosts 
beside  them?  Let  us  go  and  see." 

So  they  came  into  the  hall  and  there  were  no 
persons  there;  and  they  went  on  to  the  castle  and 
the  sleeping  place,  and  they  saw  no  one  there;  and 
in  the  mead  cellar  and  in  the  kitchen  there  was 
naught  but  desolation.  So  after  their  surprise  had 
passed  they  settled  down  to  their  former  life,  and 
the  four  feasted  and  hunted  for  awhile  and  took 
their  pleasure. 

After  that  they  began  to  go  throughout  the  land, 
visiting  the  houses  and  dwellings  and  all  the  pos- 
sessions that  they  had,  and  they  found  nothing 
in  the  fields  and  forests  but  wild  beasts.  And  when 
they  had  consumed  all  their  provisions,  they  fed 
upon  the  prey  they  killed  in  hunting  and  the  honey 
of  the  wild  bees.  And  thus  they  passed  the  first 
year  pleasantly,  and  also  the  second;  but  at  last 
they  began  to  be  weary  and  lonely. 

"Verily,"  said  Manawyddan,  "we  must  not  abide 
thus.  Let  us  go  unto  Lloegyr,  and  seek  some  craft 
whereby  we  may  gain  our  support."  So  they  went 
into  Lloegyr,  and  came  as  far  as  Hereford.  And 
they  betook  themselves  to  making  saddles;  and  so 
skillful  was  Manawyddan  that  no  saddles  but  his 
were  bought  of  any  saddler  throughout  all  Here- 

246 


from  the  ODattnogton 

ford.  At  length  the  saddlers  saw  that  they  were 
losing  much  gain,  since  no  man  bought  of  them  ex- 
cept those  who  could  not  get  what  they  needed  of 
Manawyddan.  Then  they  assembled  together  and 
agreed  to  slay  him  and  his  companions. 

Now  when  they  heard  of  this,  they  took  counsel 
whether  they  should  leave  the  city.  "By  Heaven," 
said  Pryderi,  "it  is  not  my  counsel  that  we  should 
quit  the  town,  but  that  we  should  slay  these  boors." 

"Not  so,"  said  Manawyddan,  "for  if  we  fight 
them  we  shall  have  evil  fame,  and  shall  be  put  in 
prison.  It  were  better  for  us  to  go  to  another 
town  to  maintain  ourselves."  So  the  four  went  to 
another  city. 

"What  craft  shall  we  take  here?"  said  Pryderi. 

"We  will  make  shields,"  said  Manawyddan. 

"Do  we  know  anything  about  the  craft?"  asked 
Pryderi. 

"We  will  try,"  answered  Manawyddan. 

So  they  began  to  make  shields,  and  they  fash- 
ioned them  after  the  shape  of  the  good  shields 
they  had  seen;  and  so  skilful  were  they  that  not  a 
shield  was  asked  for  in  the  whole  town  that  was 
not  made  by  them.  But  at  last  they  were  marked 
by  the  craftsmen,  who  came  together  in  haste,  and 
their  fellow  townsmen  with  them ;  and  they  agreed 
that  they  should  slay  Manawyddan  and  his  com- 
panions. But  they  received  warning,  and  heard 
how  the  men  had  resolved  on  their  destruction. 

247 


TOonfcer  Storied 

Then  Pryderi  said,  "Let  us  fall  upon  those  boors 
and  slay  them." 

But  Manawyddan  answered,  "Not  so,  for  Cas- 
wallawn  and  his  men  will  hear  of  it  and  we  shall  be 
undone.  Let  us  rather  go  to  another  town."  So 
to  another  town  they  went. 

"What  craft  shall  we  take  here?"  said  Mana- 
wyddan. 

"Whatsoever  thou  wilt  that  we  know,"  said 
Pryderi. 

"Well,  let  us  take  to  making  shoes,  for  there  is 
not  courage  enough  among  the  cordwainers  either 
to  fight  with  us  or  to  molest  us." 

"I  know  nothing  thereof,"  said  Pryderi. 

"But  I  know,"  said  Manawyddan;  "and  I  will 
teach  you  to  stitch.  We  will  not  attempt  to  dress 
the  leather,  but  we  will  buy  it  ready  dressed,  and 
will  make  the  shoes  from  it." 

So  Manawyddan  began  by  buying  the  best 
cordwal  that  could  be  had  in  the  town,  and  none 
other  would  he  buy  except  the  leather  for  the 
soles;  and  he  associated  himself  with  the  best  gold- 
smith in  the  town,  and  caused  him  to  make  clasps 
for  the  shoes,  and  to  gild  the  clasps;  and  he  marked 
how  it  was  done  until  he  learned  the  method.  And 
therefore  was  he  called  one  of  three  makers  of 
Gold  Shoes.  Now  his  shoes  were  so  beautiful  that 
when  they  could  be  had  from  him,  no  shoes  or 
hose  were  bought  of  any  of  the  cordwainers  of  the 
town.  And  when  the  cordwainers  saw  that  their 

248 


fftom  tbe  nDaWnooion 

gains  were  falling  off,  they  came  together  and  took 
counsel  and  agreed  that  they  would  slay  them. 

"Pryderi,"  said  Manawyddan,  "these  men  are 
minded  to  slay  us." 

"Wherefore  should  we  bear  this  from  the  boor- 
ish thieves?"  said  Pryderi.  "Rather  let  us  slay 
them  all." 

"Not  so,"  said  Manawyddan,  "we  will  not  slay 
them,  neither  will  we  remain  in  Lloegyr  any 
longer.  Let  us  set  forth  to  Dyved  and  see  what 
we  shall  find  there." 

So  they  journeyed  along  until  they  came  again 
to  Dyved,  and  they  went  forward  to  Narberth. 
And  there  they  thought  it  best  to  support  them- 
selves by  hunting.  So  they  gathered  their  dogs 
around  them,  and  went  daily  into  the  forest  to 
hunt,  and  lived  on  honey  and  the  flesh  of  wild 
beasts.  And  they  tarried  there  one  year. 

One  morning  Pryderi  and  Manawyddan  rose  up 
to  hunt;  and  they  ranged  their  dogs  and  went  forth 
from  the  palace.  And  some  of  the  dogs  ran  be- 
fore them  and  came  to  a  small  bush  which  was  near 
at  hand;  but  as  soon  as  they  came  to  the  bush 
they  hastily  drew  back  and  returned  to  the  men, 
their  hair  bristling  up  with  fear.  "Let  us  go  near 
the  bush  and  see  what  is  in  it,"  said  Pryderi. 

As  they  came  near,  behold,  a  wild  boar  of  a  pure 
white  color  rose  up  from  the  bush.  Then  the  dogs 
being  set  on  by  the  men,  rushed  towards  him;  but 
he  left  the  bush  and  fell  back  a  little  way  from  the 

249 


TOonfcer 

men,  and  made  a  stand  against  the  dogs  without 
retreating  from  them,  until  the  men  had  come 
near.  And  when  the  men  came  up,  he  fell  back  a 
second  time  and  betook  himself  to  flight. 

Then  they  pursued  the  boar  until  they  beheld 
a  vast  and  lofty  castle  all  newly  built,  in  a  place 
where  they  had  never  before  seen  either  stone  or 
building.  And  the  boar  ran  swiftly  into  the  castle 
and  the  dogs  after  him.  Now  when  the  boar  and 
the  dogs  had  gone  into  the  castle,  they  began  to 
wonder  at  rinding  a  castle  in  a  place  where  they 
had  never  before  seen  any  building  whatsoever. 
And  going  to  the  top  of  a  mound,  they  looked  and 
listened  for  the  dogs.  But  so  long  as  they  were 
there  they  heard  not  one  of  the  dogs,  nor  could 
they  see  aught  concerning  them. 

Then  Pryderi  said,  "Lord,  I  will  go  into  the  cas- 
tle to  get  tidings  of  the  dogs." 

"Truly,"  replied  Manawyddan,  "thou  wouldst 
be  unwise  to  go  into  this  castle,  which  thou  hast 
never  seen  till  now.  Whosoever  has  cast  a  spell 
over  this  land  has  caused  this  castle  to  be  here." 

"Of  a  truth,"  said  Pryderi,  "I  cannot  thus  give 
up  my  dogs."  And  for  all  the  counsel  that  Mana- 
wyddan gave  him,  into  the  castle  he  went. 

When  he  came  within  the  castle,  he  saw  there 
neither  man  nor  beast  nor  boar  nor  dogs  nor  any 
living  thing.  But  in  the  center  of  the  castle  floor 
he  beheld  a  fountain,  with  marble  work  around  it; 
and  on  the  margin  of  the  fountain  a  golden  bowl 

250 


Utom  tbe  flDabinoofon 

upon  a  marble  slab,  and  chains  hanging  from  the 
bowl  to  which  he  saw  no  end.  And  he  was  greatly 
pleased  with  the  beauty  of  the  gold,  and  with  the 
rich  workmanship  of  the  bowl;  and  he  went  up  to 
the  bowl  and  laid  hold  of  it.  And  when  he  had 
taken  hold  of  it  his  hands  stuck  to  the  bowl,  and 
his  feet  to  the  slab  on  which  the  bowl  was  placed, 
and  all  his  courage  forsook  him  so  that  he  could 
not  utter  a  word.  And  thus  he  stood. 

Now  Manawyddan  waited  for  him  until  near  the 
close  of  the  day.  And  late  in  the  evening,  being 
certain  that  he  would  have  no  tidings  of  Pryderi 
or  of  the  dogs,  he  went  back  to  the  palace.  And 
as  he  entered  the  palace  Rhiannon  looked  at  him 
and  said,  "Where  are  thy  companion  and  thy 
dogs?" 

"Behold,"  he  answered,  "the  adventure  that 
hath  befallen  me !"  And  he  related  it  all  to  her. 

"An  evil  companion  hast  thou  been,"  she  said, 
"and  a  good  companion  hast  thou  lost." 

And  with  these  words  she  went  out,  and  pro- 
ceeded toward  the  castle.  The  gate  of  the  castle 
she  found  open;  and  nothing  daunted  she  went  in. 
And  as  she  went  in  she  perceived  Pryderi  laying 
hold  of  the  bowl,  and  she  went  toward  him. 

"Oh,  my  lord,"  she  said,  "what  dost  thou  here?" 
And  she  took  hold  of  the  bowl  with  him;  and  as 
she  did  so  her  hands  became  fast  to  the  bowl,  and 
her  feet  to  the  slab,  and  she  was  not  able  to  utter 
a  word.  And  there  she  and  Pryderi  remained  un- 

251 


TOon&er 

til  it  became  night,  when  lo,  there  came  peals  of 
thunder  upon  them,  and  a  fall  of  mist,  and  there- 
upon the  castle  vanished  and  they  with  it. 


252 


CHAPTER  II 

HOW    MANAWYDDAN    RESCUED    PRYDERI    AND 
RHIANNON 

NOW  when  Kicva,  the  wife  of  Pryderi,  saw 
no  one  in  the  palace  but  herself  and  Man- 
awyddan,  she  feared  that  harm  might 
befall  her,  and  she  sorrowed  so  that  she  cared  not 
whether  she  lived  or  died.  But  Manawyddan  com- 
forted her,  saying  to  her  that  he  would  be  a  true 
friend  to  her  as  long  as  he  lived. 

"Heaven  reward  thee,"  she  said,  "and  of  this  I 
felt  assured."  And  then  the  lady  took  courage 
and  was  comforted. 

Then  Manawyddan  said,  "It  is  not  fitting,  lady, 
for  us  to  stay  here,  for  we  have  lost  our  dogs  and 
cannot  get  food.  Let  us  go  unto  Llogyr,  for  it  is 
easiest  for  us  to  find  support  there." 

"Gladly,  lord,"  she  said,  "we  will  do  so." 

And  so  they  set  forth  together  to  Llogyr.  As 
they  journeyed  on  their  way,  he  said,  "What  craft 
shall  we  follow  there?" 

"Take  up  one  that  is  seemly,"  she  replied. 

"None  other  will  I  take,"  he  answered,  "than 
that  of  making  shoes,  as  I  did  formerly." 

"Lord,"  said  she,  "such  a  craft  becomes  not  a 
man  so  nobly  born  as  thou." 

253 


TOonfcer  Storiee 

"By  that,  however,  will  I  abide,"  said  he. 

So  he  began  his  craft,  and  he  made  all  his  work 
of  the  finest  leather  he  could  get  in  town,  and  as 
he  had  done  at  the  other  place,  he  caused  gilded 
clasps  to  be  made  for  the  shoes.  And  soon  nearly 
all  the  cordwainers  in  the  town  were  idle,  except 
himself,  and  without  work.  For  as  long  as  they 
could  be  had  from  him,  neither  shoes  nor  hose 
were  bought  elsewhere.  And  thus  they  tarried 
there  a  year,  until  the  cordwainers  became  envious 
of  him  and  resolved  to  slay  him.  And  when  he 
heard  of  this  he  made  ready  to  go  back  to  Dyved. 

Now  when  he  set  out  to  return  to  Dyved,  he 
took  with  him  a  sack  of  wheat.  And  they  came  to 
Narberth,  and  there  they  dwelt.  And  he  was  glad 
in  his  heart  when  he  saw  Narberth  again,  and  the 
lands  where  he  had  been  wont  to  hunt  with  Pryderi 
and  with  Rhiannon.  And  he  found  a  living  for 
himself  and  Kicva  by  fishing  and  by  hunting  the 
deer  in  the  forest.  And  then  he  began  to  prepare 
some  ground  and  to  plant  it  with  the  wheat  he  had 
brought  with  him;  and  in  a  while  it  grew  so  that  no 
man  ever  saw  fairer  wheat  than  it. 

And  thus  passed  the  season  of  the  year  until  the 
harvest  came.  On  a  certain  day  he  went  and 
looked  at  one  of  his  fields,  and  behold  it  was  ripe 
and  ready  for  reaping.  "I  will  reap  this  to-mor- 
row," said  he.  And  that  night  he  went  back  to 
Narberth. 

On  the  morrow  at  the  gray  dawn  he  went  to 

254 


fftom  the  flDabfnogton 

reap  the  field,  and  when  he  came  there  he  found 
nothing  but  the  bare  straw.  Every  one  of  the 
ears  of  wheat  was  cut  from  off  the  stalk,  and  all  the 
ears  carried  entirely  away,  and  nothing  but  the 
straw  was  left.  And  at  this  he  marvelled  greatly. 

Then  he  went  to  look  at  another  field,  and  be- 
hold that  was  also  ripe  and  ready  for  reaping. 
"Verily,"  said  he,  "this  will  I  reap  to-morrow." 
And  on  the  morrow  he  came  with  the  intent  to 
reap  it,  but  when  he  came  he  found  nothing  but 
the  bare  straw. 

"Oh,  gracious  Heaven,"  he  exclaimed,  "I  know 
that  whatsoever  has  begun  my  ruin  is  completing 
it." 

Then  he  went  to  look  at  the  third  field,  and  when 
he  came  there,  finer  wheat  he  had  never  seen,  and 
this  was  also  ripe  and  ready  to  be  reaped.  "Evil 
betide  me  if  I  watch  not  here  to-night,"  he  said. 
"Whosoever  carried  off  the  other  corn  will  come  in 
like  manner  to  take  this;  and  I  will  know  who  it 
is."  And  he  told  Kicva  all  that  had  befallen. 

"Verily,"  said  she,  "what  thinkest  thou  to  do?" 

"I  will  watch  the  field  to-night,"  said  he.  So  he 
took  his  arms  and  began  to  watch  the  field. 

And  at  midnight,  lo,  there  arose  a  loud  tumult. 
And  he  looked  and  beheld  a  mighty  host  of  mice, 
so  great  that  it  could  not  be  numbered  or  meas- 
ured. And  the  mice  made  their  way  into  the  field, 
and  each  one  climbed  up  a  stalk  and  bending  it 
down  with  its  weight,  cut  off  one  of  the  ears  of 

255 


UUonfcer  Stories 

wheat  and  carried  it  away,  leaving  there  the  bare 
stalk.  And  so  great  was  the  number  of  mice  that 
he  saw  not  a  single  straw  that  had  not  a  mouse  on 
it.  And  they  all  took  their  way  from  the  field,  car- 
rying the  ears  with  them. 

Then  in  wrath  and  anger  did  he  rush  upon  the 
mice,  but  he  could  no  more  come  up  with  them 
than  if  they  had  been  gnats  or  birds,  except  one 
only  which  could  not  run  as  fast  as  the  others, 
though  he  could  hardly  overtake  it.  And  after  this 
one  he  went,  and  he  caught  it  and  put  it  in  his 
glove,  and  tied  up  the  opening  of  the  glove  with  a 
string,  and  kept  it  with  him,  and  returned  to  the 
palace.  Then  he  came  to  the  hall  where  Kicva 
was,  and  he  lighted  a  fire,  and  hung  the  glove  by 
the  string  upon  a  peg. 

"What  hast  thou  there,  lord?"  said  Kicva. 

"A  thief,"  said  he,  "that  I  found  robbing  me." 

"What  kind  of  a  thief  may  it  be,  lord,  that  thou 
canst  put  it  in  a  glove  ?"  said  she. 

"Behold,  I  will  tell  thee,"  he  answered. 

Then  he  showed  her  how  his  fields  had  been 
wasted  and  destroyed,  and  how  the  mice  came  to 
the  last  of  his  fields  in  his  sight.  "And  one  of  them 
was  less  nimble  than  the  rest,  and  is  now  in  my 
glove;  and  to-morrow  I  will  hang  it;  and  before 
Heaven,  if  I  had  them,  I  would  hang  them  all." 

"My  lord,"  she  answered,  "this  is  marvelous; 
but  yet  it  would  be  unseemly  for  a  man  of  dignity 
like  thee  to  be  hanging  such  a  reptile  as  this.  And 

256 


Jfrom  tbe  flDabinoaton 

if  thou  dost  right,  thou  wilt  not  meddle  with  the 
creature  but  wilt  let  it  go." 

"Woe  betide  me,"  he  said,  "if  I  would  not  hang 
them  all  if  I  could  catch  them,  and  such  as  I  have 
I  will  hang." 

"Verily,  lord,"  said  she,  "there  is  no  reason  that 
I  should  succor  this  reptile,  except  to  prevent  dis- 
credit unto  thee.  Do,  therefore,  lord,  as  thou 
wilt." 

Then  Manawyddan  went  up  on  a  small  hill  at 
Narberth,  taking  the  mouse  with  him.  And  he  sat 
up  two  forks  on  the  highest  part  of  the  hill.  And 
while  he  was  doing  this  he  saw  a  scholar  coming 
toward  him  dressed  in  old  and  tattered  garments. 
And  it  was  now  seven  years  since  he  had  seen  in 
that  place  either  man  or  beast,  except  those  four 
persons  who  had  remained  together  until  two  of 
them  were  lost. 

"My  lord,"  said  the  scholar,  "good  day  to  thee." 

"My  greeting  also  unto  thee,"  Manawyddan 
said;  "whence  dost  thou  come?" 

"Truly,  lord,"  said  he,  "I  came  from  Llogyr,  and 
go  through  this  land  unto  my  own.  But  what 
work  art  thou  upon,  lord?" 

"I  am  hanging  a  thief  that  I  caught  robbing  me," 
he  replied. 

"What  manner  of  thief  is  that?"  asked  the 
scholar.  "I  see  a  creature  in  thy  hand  like  unto  a 
mouse,  and  ill  does  it  become  a  man  of  rank  such 

257 


TOonfcer  Stories 

as  thou  art  to  touch  a  reptile  such  as  this.  Let  it 
go  forth  free." 

"I  will  not  let  it  go  free,  by  Heaven,"  said  he, 
"for  I  caught  it  robbing  me,  and  the  doom  of  a 
thief  I  will  inflict  upon  it,  and  I  will  hang  it." 

"Lord,"  said  the  scholar,  "rather  than  see  a  man 
of  thy  rank  at  such  a  work,  I  will  give  thee  a  pound 
which  I  have  received  as  alms,  to  let  the  reptile  go 
forth  free." 

"I  will  not  let  it  go  free,"  said  he,  "by  Heaven; 
neither  will  I  sell  it."  So  the  scholar  went  on  his 
way. 

As  he  was  placing  the  crossbeam  upon  the  two 
forks,  behold  a  priest  came  towards  him  upon  a 
horse  covered  with  trappings.  "Good  day  to  thee, 
lord,"  said  the  priest. 

"Heaven  prosper  thee,"  said  Manawyddan;  "and 
I  crave  thy  blessing." 

"The  blessing  of  Heaven  be  upon  thee,"  said  the 
priest;  "and  what,  lord,  art  thou  doing?" 

"I  am  hanging  a  thief  that  I  caught  robbing 
me,"  he  said. 

"What  manner  of  thief  is  it,  lord  ?"  he  inquired. 

"A  creature,"  he  answered,  "in  the  form  of  a 
mouse.  It  has  been  robbing  me,  and  I  am  inflict- 
ing upon  it  the  doom  of  a  thief." 

"Lord,"  said  the  priest,  "rather  than  see  thee 
touch  this  reptile  I  would  purchase  its  freedom." 

Then  he  offered  Manawyddan  three  pounds  for 

258 


ffrom  tbe  n&airino<jion 

the  mouse,  but  he  said,  "I  will  not  sell  it  for  any 
price."  So  the  priest  went  his  way. 

Then  he  noosed  the  string  about  the  mouse's 
neck;  and  as  he  was  about  to  draw  it  up,  behold  he 
saw  a  bishop's  retinue  with  his  horses  and  attend- 
ants. And  the  bishop  came  toward  him,  saying, 
"Heaven's  blessing  be  upon  thee;  what  work  art 
thou  upon?" 

"Hanging  a  thief  that  I  caught  robbing  me,"  he 
replied. 

"Is  that  not  a  mouse  I  see  in  thy  hand?"  said 
the  bishop. 

"Yes,"  answered  he,  "and  she  has  robbed  me." 

"Ay,"  said  the  bishop,  "since  I  have  come  at  the 
doom  of  this  reptile,  I  will  ransom  it  of  thee." 

Then  the  bishop  offered  him  seven  pounds  as  a 
ransom  for  the  mouse,  saying  "I  would  not  see  a 
man  of  thy  rank  destroying  so  vile  a  reptile  as  this. 
Let  it  loose  and  thou  shalt  have  the  money." 

And  when  Manawyddan  refused  to  set  the 
mouse  free,  he  said,  "I  will  give  thee  four  and 
twenty  pounds  of  ready  money  to  set  it  free." 

And  when  he  still  refused,  the  bishop  said,  "I 
will  give  thee  all  the  horses  that  thou  seest  in  this 
plain,  and  the  seven  loads  of  baggage,  and  the 
seven  horses  that  they  are  upon." 

And  still  Manawyddan  replied,  "By  Heaven,  I 
will  not  set  the  mouse  free." 

Then  the  bishop  said,  "Since  thou  wilt  not  do  so 
for  this,  do  so  at  whatever  price  thou  wilt." 

259 


TOonfcer  Stories 

"I  will  do  so,"  Manawyddan  said,  "If  thou  wilt 
set  Rhiannon  and  Pryderi  free." 

"That  shalt  thou  have,"  the  bishop  answered. 

"Not  yet  will  I  loose  the  mouse,  by  Heaven." 

"What  then  wouldst  thou?"  said  the  bishop. 

"That  the  charm  and  the  illusion  be  removed 
from  the  seven  Cantrevs  of  Dyved." 

"This  shalt  thou  also  have,"  said  the  bishop;  set 
therefore  the  mouse  free." 

"I  will  not  set  it  free,  by  Heaven,"  said  he.  "I 
will  know  who  the  mouse  may  be." 

"She  is  my  wife,"  said  the  bishop. 

"Even  though  she  be  thy  wife  I  will  not  set  her 
free.  Wherefore  came  she  to  me?" 

"To  despoil  thee,"  the  bishop  answered. 

Then  the  bishop  told  him  that  he  was  Llwyd,  the 
son  of  Kilcoed,  and  had  cast  the  charm  over  the 
seven  Cantrevs  of  Dyved  in  revenge  upon  Pryderi 
for  the  game  of  Badger  in  the  Bag.  "And  when 
it  was  known  that  thou  wast  come  to  dwell  in  the 
land,  at  the  request  of  my  household  I  transformed 
them  into  mice  that  they  might  destroy  thy  corn. 
And  it  was  my  own  household  that  went  the  first 
and  the  second  night,  and  the  third  night  my  wife 
and  the  ladies  of  the  court  besought  me  to  trans- 
form them,  which  I  did,  and  had  my  wife  not  been 
so  stout  and  heavy  you  could  not  have  caught  her. 
But  since  this  has  taken  place  and  she  has  been 
caught,  I  will  restore  thee  Pryderi  and  Rhiannon, 

260 


from  tbe  flDabinooion 

and  I  will  take  the  charm  and  the  illusion  from 
off  Dyved.  So  therefore  set  her  free." 

"I  will  not  yet  set  her  free,  by  Heaven,"  he  said. 

"What  wilt  thou  more?"  said  the  bishop. 

"I  will  see  that  there  be  no  more  charm  upon 
the  seven  Cantrevs  of  Dyved." 

"This  shalt  thou  have,"  the  bishop  said,  "now 
set  her  free." 

"I  will  not,  by  my  faith,"  he  answered. 

"What  wilt  thou  have  furthermore  ?"  the  bishop 
asked. 

"I  will,"  he  replied,  "that  vengeance  be  never 
taken  for  this,  either  on  Pryderi  or  Rhiannon  or 
upon  me." 

"All  this  shalt  thou  have,"  said  the  bishop;  "now 
set  her  free." 

"I  will  not,  by  Heaven,"  he  said,  "until  I  see 
Pryderi  and  Rhiannon  with  me  free." 

"Behold  here  they  come,"  the  bishop  answered. 

And  thereupon  behold  Pryderi  and  Rhiannon 
appeared  coming  toward  him.  And  he  rose  up  to 
meet  them,  and  greeted  them,  and  took  them  by 
the  hands  and  seated  them  and  sat  down  beside 
them ;  and  so  also  did  Kicva.  And  the  joy  of  that 
meeting  no  words  can  describe. 

Then  the  bishop  said,  "Ah,  Chieftain,  set  now 
my  wife  at  liberty  for  thou  hast  received  all  that 
thou  didst  ask." 

"I  will  release  her  gladly,"  said  Manawyddan; 
and  thereupon  he  set  her  free.  Then  Llwyd 

261 


Wion&er  Stories 

struck  her  with  a  magic  wand,  and  she  was 
changed  back  into  a  young  woman,  one  of  the  fair- 
est that  was  ever  seen. 

Then  the  bishop  said,  "Look  around  upon  thy 
land,  and  thou  wilt  see  it  all  tilled  and  peopled,  as 
it  was  in  its  best  state." 

And  Manawyddan  rose  up  and  looked  forth ;  and 
when  he  looked  he  saw  all  the  lands  tilled  and  full 
of  herds  and  dwellings.  And  there  was  rejoicing 
among  them  all  both  high  and  low;  and  no  more 
charms  were  ever  placed  upon  that  land;  and  peace 
and  plenty  and  quiet  and  happiness  dwelt  with 
them  all  as  long  as  they  lived. 

This  story  indicates  the  vivid  imagination  and  the  taste 
of  the  early  people  of  Wales  for  tales  of  magic  and  en- 
chantment. The  Prince  who  figures  as  the  hero  of  the 
story  is  the  subject  of  two  Welsh  poems,  in  one  of  which 
he  is  spoken  of  as  the  maker  of  golden  shoes,  and  in  the 
other  as  a  minstrel  who  on  account  of  the  captivity  of  his 
brother  Poran  would  not  afterward  resume  his  princely 
rank,  although  he  might  have  done  so. 


262 


iEi)c  flDreatn 


QTI)t  SDrcam  of  tt)t  €  mptror  S^axcn  UHcfcxg 

LONG  time  ago  Maxen  Wledig  was  em- 
peror of  Rome;  and  he  was  a  better  and 
a  wiser  ruler  than  any  emperor  before 


him.  One  day  he  held  a  council  of  the  kings  of 
the  land  and  he  said  to  them,  "I  desire  to  go  to- 
morrow to  hunt." 

So  the  next  day  in  the  morning  he  set  forth  with 
his  retinue,  and  soon  came  to  the  valley  of  the  river 
that  flowed  through  Rome;  and  he  hunted  through 
the  valley  until  mid-day.  And  with  him  were  two 
and  thirty  crowned  kings,  all  of  whom  were  his  vas- 
sals. Now  the  purpose  of  the  emperor  was  not  so 
much  for  the  delight  of  hunting  as  to  put  himself 
on  equal  terms  with  those  kings  and  thus  win  their 
friendship. 

Soon  the  sun  was  high  in  the  sky  over  their 
heads,  and  the  heat  was  very  great;  and  a  feeling 
of  sleep  came  upon  Maxen  Wledig.  As  his  at- 
tendants saw  it  they  stood  and  set  up  their  shields 
around  him  upon  the  shafts  of  their  spears  to  pro- 
tect him  from  the  sun,  and  they  placed  a  gold  en- 

263 


TOon&er  Stories 

amelled  shield  under  his  head;  and  so  the  Emperor 
Maxen  slept. 

As  he  slept,  he  had  a  dream;  and  this  is  what 
he  saw  in  his  dream.  He  was  journeying  along  the 
valley  of  the  river  towards  its  source;  and  he  came 
to  the  highest  mountain  in  the  world.  And  he 
thought  that  the  mountain  was  as  high  as  the  sky; 
and  when  he  came  over  the  mountain,  it  seemed 
to  him  that  he  went  through  the  fairest  and  most 
level  regions  that  man  ever  yet  beheld.  And  he 
saw  large  and  mighty  rivers  descending  from  the 
mountain  to  the  sea,  and  he  proceeded  towards  the 
mouths  of  the  rivers. 

As  he  journeyed  thus,  he  came  to  the  mouth 
of  the  largest  river  he  had  ever  seen.  At  the  en- 
trance of  the  river  he  beheld  a  great  city  and  in 
the  city  a  vast  castle  with  many  high  towers  of  vari- 
ous colors.  At  the  mouth  of  the  river  he  saw  a 
fleet,  the  largest  he  had  ever  seen  before.  And  he 
saw  one  ship  among  the  fleet  which  was  larger 
and  fairer  than  all  the  others.  Of  such  part  of  the 
ship  as  he  could  see  above  the  water,  one  plank 
was  gilded  and  the  other  silvered  over,  both  shin- 
ing with  great  brightness.  And  as  he  looked  he 
saw  a  bridge  of  the  bone  of  a  whale  reaching  from 
the  land  to  the  ship;  and  he  thought  that  he  went 
along  the  bridge,  and  came  into  the  ship.  And  a 
sail  was  hoisted  on  the  ship,  and  along  the  sea  and 
the  ocean  it  was  swiftly  borne. 

Then  it  seemed  that  he  came  to  the  fairest  island 

264 


ITrom  tbe  nDaWnoofon 

m  the  whole  world,  and  leaving  the  ship  he 
traversed  the  island  from  sea  to  sea,  even  to  the 
furthest  shore  of  the  island.  And  there  he  saw 
valleys  and  steeps,  and  rocks  of  wondrous  height, 
and  rugged  precipices;  such  as  he  had  never  seen 
the  like  before.  And  thence  he  beheld  an  island 
in  the  sea,  facing  this  rugged  land.  And  between 
him  and  this  island  was  a  country  of  which  the  plain 
was  as  large  as  the  sea,  and  the  mountain  as  vast 
as  the  wood.  And  from  the  mountain  he  saw  a 
river  that  flowed  through  the  land  and  fell  into  the 
sea.  And  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  he  beheld  a 
castle,  the  fairest  that  man  ever  saw;  and  the  gate 
of  the  castle  was  open,  and  he  went  into  the  castle. 

In  the  castle  he  saw  a  fair  hall,  of  which  the  roof 
seemed  to  be  all  gold,  the  walls  seemed  to  be  en- 
tirely of  precious  gems,  and  the  doors  all  seemed 
to  be  of  gold.  There  were  also  golden  seats  in  the 
hall,  and  silver  tables.  And  on  a  seat  opposite  to 
him,  he  beheld  two  auburn  haired  youths  playing 
at  chess;  and  they  had  a  silver  board  for  the  chess, 
and  golden  pieces  thereon.  The  garments  of  the 
youths  were  of  jet  black  satin,  and  chaplets  of 
ruddy  gold  bound  their  hair,  whereon  were  spark- 
ling jewels  of  great  price, — rubies  and  gems  alter- 
nately with  imperial  stones.  Buskins  of  new  Cor- 
dovan leather  were  on  their  feet,  fastened  by  slides 
of  red  gold. 

And  beside  a  pillar  in  the  hall,  he  saw  a  hoary- 
headed  man  of  powerful  aspect,  seated  in  a  chair  of 

265 


TOotfter  Stories 

ivory,  with  the  figures  of  two  eagles  of  ruddy  gold 
thereon.  Bracelets  of  gold  were  upon  his  arms, 
and  many  rings  were  on  his  hands,  and  a  golden 
torque  about  his  neck;  and  his  hair  was  bound  with 
a  golden  diadem.  A  chess  board  of  gold  was  be- 
fore him,  and  a  rod  of  gold  and  a  steel  file  were  in 
his  hand.  And  he  was  carving  out  chess  men. 

And  he  saw  a  maiden  sitting  before  him  in  a 
chair  of  ruddy  gold;  and  so  great  was  her  beauty 
that  it  was  even  more  easy  to  gaze  upon  the  sun 
when  brightest  in  the  heavens  than  upon  her.  A 
vest  of  white  silk  was  upon  the  maiden,  with  clasps 
of  red  gold  at  the  breast;  and  a  surcoat  of  gold 
tissue  was  upon  her,  and  a  frontlet  of  red  gold  was 
upon  her  head,  and  rubies  and  gems  were  in  the 
frontlet,  alternating  with  pearls  and  imperial 
stones.  And  a  girdle  of  ruddy  gold  was  around 
her  waist.  Indeed,  she  was  the  fairest  sight  that 
ever  man  beheld. 

As  the  maiden  saw  him  she  arose  from  her  chair 
before  him,  and  he  threw  his  arms  about  her  neck, 
and  they  two  sat  down  together  in  the  chair  of 
gold;  and  the  chair  was  not  less  roomy  for  them 
both  than  for  the  maiden  alone.  And  as  he  sat  thus 
with  his  arms  about  the  maiden's  neck,  behold, 
through  the  chafing  of  the  dogs  at  their  leashing, 
and  the  clashing  of  the  shields  as  they  struck 
against  one  another,  and  the  beating  together  of 
the  shafts  of  the  spears,  and  the  neighing  and  the 
prancing  of  the  horses,  the  emperor  awoke. 

266 


Jfrom  tbe  r^abinogion 

When  he  awoke,  neither  spirit  nor  life  was  left 
in  him,  because  of  the  maiden  whom  he  had  seen 
in  his  sleep,  for  the  love  of  the  maiden  pervaded  his 
whole  frame.  Seeing  this  his  household  spake 
unto  him,  saying,  "Lord,  is  it  not  past  the  time  for 
thee  to  take  thy  food?"  Thereupon  the  emperor 
breathed  a  deep  sigh  and  mounted  his  palfrey,  the 
saddest  man  that  mortal  ever  saw,  and  went  forth 
toward  Rome. 

And  thus  he  was  during  the  space  of  a  whole 
week.  When  they  of  the  household  went  to  drink 
wine  and  mead  out  of  golden  vessels,  he  went  not 
with  any  of  them.  When  they  went  to  listen  to 
songs  and  tales,  he  went  not  with  them  there; 
neither  could  he  be  persuaded  to  do  anything  but 
sleep.  And  as  often  as  he  slept,  he  beheld  in  his 
dreams  the  maiden  who  had  thus  bewitched  his 
heart;  but  except  when  he  slept  he  saw  nothing 
of  her;  and  he  knew  not  where  in  the  world  she 
was. 

One  day  the  page  of  the  chamber  spake  unto 
him;  now,  although  he  was  page  of  the  chamber, 
he  was  a  king  of  the  Romans.  "Lord,"  said  he, 
"all  the  people  revile  thee." 

"Wherefore  do  they  revile  me?"  asked  the  em- 
peror. 

"Because  they  can  get  neither  message  nor  an- 
swer from  thee  as  men  should  have  from  their  lord. 
This  is  the  cause  why  thou  art  spoken  evil  of." 

"Youth,"  said  the  emperor,  "do  thou  bring  unto 

267 


TKDkmber  Stories 

me  the  wise  men  of  Rome,  and  I  will  tell  them 
wherefore  I  am  sorrowful." 

Then  the  wise  men  of  Rome  were  brought  to 
the  emperor,  and  he  spake  to  them.  "Sages  of 
Rome,"  said  he,  "I  have  seen  a  dream.  And  in  the 
dream  I  beheld  a  maiden,  and  because  of  the 
maiden  is  there  neither  life,  nor  spirit,  nor  exist- 
ence within  me." 

"Lord,"  they  answered,  "since  thou  judgest  us 
worthy  to  counsel  thee,  we  will  give  thee  counsel. 
And  this  is  our  counsel;  that  thou  send  messengers 
for  three  years  to  three  parts  of  the  world,  to  seek 
the  object  of  thy  dream.  And  as  thou  knowest  not 
what  day  or  what  night  good  news  may  come  to 
thee,  the  hope  thereof  will  support  thee." 

So  the  messengers  journeyed  for  the  space  of  a 
year,  wandering  about  the  world,  and  seeking  tid- 
ings concerning  his  dream.  But  when  they  came 
back  at  the  end  of  the  year,  they  knew  not  one 
word  more  than  they  did  the  day  they  set  forth. 
And  then  was  the  emperor  exceedingly  sorrowful, 
for  he  thought  that  he  should  never  have  tidings 
of  the  maiden  whose  beauty  had  enchanted  his 
heart. 

Then  spake  one  of  the  kings  of  the  Romans  unto 
the  emperor.  "Lord,"  said  he,  "go  forth  to  hunt 
by  the  way  thou  didst  seem  to  go,  whether  it  were 
to  the  east  or  to  the  west." 

So  the  emperor  went  forth  to  the  hunt,  going 
in  the  direction  of  the  stream.  And  anon  he  came 

268 


Jftom  tbe  flDabinoston 

to  the  bank  of  the  river.  "Behold,"  said  he,  "this 
is  where  I  was  when  I  saw  the  dream,  and  I  went 
towards  the  source  of  the  river  westward." 

And  thereupon  thirteen  messengers  of  the  em- 
peror set  forth,  and  before  them  they  saw  a  high 
mountain  which  seemed  to  them  to  touch  the  sky. 
Now  this  was  the  guise  in  which  the  messengers 
journeyed;  one  sleeve  was  on  the  cap  of  each  of 
them  in  front,  as  a  sign  that  they  were  messengers, 
in  order  that  through  what  hostile  land  soever  they 
might  pass  no  harm  might  be  done  them.  And 
when  they  were  come  over  the  mountain,  they  be- 
held vast  plains  and  large  rivers  flowing  through 
them.  "Behold,"  said  they,  "the  land  which  our 
master  saw." 

And  they  went  along  the  mouths  of  the  rivers, 
until  they  came  to  a  mighty  river  flowing  toward 
the  sea;  and  there  was  a  vast  city  and  a  castle  in 
it  with  many  colored  high  towers  in  the  castle.  And 
there  they  saw  the  largest  fleet  in  the  world,  in  the 
harbor  of  the  river,  and  one  ship  that  was  larger 
than  any  of  the  others.  "Behold,  again,"  said  they, 
"the  dream  that  our  master  saw." 

And  they  entered  the  great  ship  and  crossed  the 
sea,  and  came  to  the  Island  of  Britain.  And  they 
traversed  the  island  until  they  came  to  Snowdon. 
"Behold,"  said  they,  "the  rugged  land  that  our 
master  saw." 

And  they  went  forward  again  until  they  saw 
Anglesey  before  them,  and  until  they  saw  Arvon 

269 


WKmfcer  Stories 

likewise.  "Behold,"  said  they,  "the  land  our  mas- 
ter saw  in  his  sleep." 

And  they  saw  Aber  Sain,  and  a  castle  at  the 
mouth  of  the  river.  The  portal  of  the  castle  saw 
they  open,  and  into  the  castle  they  went,  and  they 
saw  a  hall  in  the  castle.  Then  said  they,  "Behold, 
the  hall  which  he  saw  in  his  sleep." 

They  went  into  the  hall  and  beheld  there  two 
youths  playing  at  chess  on  the  golden  bench.  And 
they  saw  the  hoary-headed  man  beside  the  pillar, 
in  the  ivory  chair,  carving  chessmen.  And  there 
before  them  they  beheld  the  maiden  sitting  in  a 
chair  of  ruddy  gold. 

Then  the  messengers  bent  down  upon  their 
knees,  and  said,  "Empress  of  Rome,  all  hail !" 

"Ha,  gentles,"  said  the  maiden,  "ye  bear  the 
seeming  of  honorable  men,  and  the  badge  of  en- 
voys; what  mockery  is  this  ye  do  to  me?" 

"We  mock  thee  not,  lady;  but  the  Emperor  of 
Rome  hath  seen  thee  in  his  sleep,  and  he  has 
neither  life  nor  spirit  left  because  of  thee.  Thou 
shalt  have  of  us  therefore  the  choice,  lady,  whether 
thou  wilt  go  with  us  and  be  made  Empress  of 
Rome,  or  that  the  emperor  come  hither  and  take 
thee  for  his  wife?" 

"Ha,  lords,"  said  the  maiden,  "I  will  not  deny 
what  ye  say,  neither  will  I  believe  it  too  eagerly. 
If  the  emperor  loves  me,  let  him  come  here  to 
seek  me." 

Then  by  day  and  by  night  the  messengers  hied 

270 


fftom  tbe  flDabinogion 

them  back  to  Rome.  And  when  their  horses 
failed,  they  bought  other  fresh  ones  and  thus 
hastened  on  their  way.  And  when  they  came  to 
Rome  they  saluted  the  emperor  and  told  him  what 
they  had  seen.  "We  will  be  thy  guides,  lord,"  said 
they,  "over  sea  and  over  land,  to  the  place  where 
is  the  woman  whom  best  thou  lovest,  for  we  know 
her  name,  and  her  kindred,  and  her  race."  Then 
they  asked  their  boon,  which  was  given  to  them 
according  as  they  named  it. 


2/1 


CHAPTER  II 

HOW  THE  EMPEROR  FOUND  THE  OBJECT  OF  HIS 
DREAM 

NOW  immediately  the  emperor  set  forth  with 
his  army;  and  these  men  were  his  guides. 
Towards  Britain  they  went,  over  the  sea 
and  the  deep.  And  the  emperor  knew  the  land 
when  he  saw  it,  for  it  was  as  in  his  dream.  And 
when  the  men  of  that  land  rose  against  him,  he 
conquered  the  island  from  Beli,  the  son  of  Mano- 
gan,  and  his  sons,  and  drove  them  to  the  sea,  and 
went  forward  even  unto  Arvon.  And  when  he 
beheld  the  castle  of  Aber  Sain,  he  said,  "Look 
yonder,  there  is  the  castle  wherein  I  saw  the 
damsel  whom  best  I  love." 

And  he  went  forward  into  the  castle  and  into  the 
hall,  and  there  he  saw  Kynan,  the  son  of  Eudav, 
and  Adeon,  the  son  of  Eudav,  playing  at  chess. 
And  he  saw  Eudav,  the  son  of  Caradawc,  sitting  on 
a  chair  of  ivory,  carving  chessmen.  And  the 
maiden  whom  he  had  beheld  in  his  sleep,  he  saw 
sitting  in  a  chair  of  gold. 

"Empress  of  Rome,"  said  he,  "all  hail!"  And 
the  emperor  threw  his  arms  about  her  neck;  and 
that  night  she  became  his  bride. 

And  the  next  day  in  the  morning,  the  damsel 
asked  her  maiden  portion;  and  the  emperor  told 

272 


ffrom  tbc 

her  to  name  what  she  would.  And  she  asked  to 
have  the  Island  of  Britain  for  her  father,  from  the 
channel  to  the  Irish  Sea,  together  with  the  three 
adjacent  lands,  to  hold  under  the  Empress  of 
Rome;  and  to  have  three  chief  castles  made  for 
her,  in  whatever  places  she  might  choose  in  the 
Island  of  Britain.  To  this  the  emperor  agreed; 
and  she  choose  to  have  the  highest  castle  made  at 
Arvon.  And  they  brought  thither  earth  from 
Rome  that  it  might  be  more  healthful  for  the  em- 
peror to  sleep  and  sit  and  walk  upon.  After  that 
the  two  other  castles  were  made  for  her,  which 
were  Caerleon  and  Caermarthen. 

And  one  day  the  emperor  went  to  hunt  at  Caer- 
marthen, and  he  came  so  far  as  the  top  of  Brevi 
Vawr,  and  there  the  emperor  pitched  his  tent.  And 
that  encamping  place  is  called  Cadeir  Maxen,  even 
to  this  day.  And  because  that  he  built  the  castle 
with  a  myriad  of  men,  he  called  it  Caervyrddin, 
Then  Helen,  the  empress,  bethought  her  to  make 
high  roads  from  one  castle  to  another  throughout 
the  Island  of  Britain;  and  the  roads  were  made. 
And  for  this  cause  are  they  called  the  roads  of 
Helen  Luyddawc,  for  the  men  of  the  Island  of 
Britain  would  not  have  made  these  great  roads 
for  any  save  for  her. 

Seven  years  did  the  emperor  tarry  in  this  island. 
Now,  at  that  time,  the  men  of  Rome  had  a  custom, 
that  whatsoever  emperor  should  remain  in  other 
lands  more  than  seven  years,  should  remain  to  his 

273 


Member  Stories 

own  overthrow,  and  should  never  return  to  Rome 
again.  So  they  made  a  new  emperor;  and  he  wrote 
a  letter  of  threat  to  Maxen.  There  was  nought  in 
the  letter  but  only  this:  "If  thou  comest,  and  if 
thou  ever  comest  to  Rome."  This  letter  came  to 
Maxen  at  Caerleon,  and  these  tidings. 

Then  sent  he  a  letter  to  the  man  who  styled  him- 
self emperor  of  Rome.  There  was  nought  in  that 
letter  also  but  only  this :  "If  I  come  to  Rome,  and 
if  I  come." 

Thereupon  Maxen  set  forth  towards  Rome  with 
his  army;  and  on  his  way  he  vanquished  France  and 
Burgundy,  and  every  other  land  through  which  he 
passed.  At  length  he  reached  the  city  of  Rome, 
which  was  now  in  the  hands  of  the  usurper. 

For  a  whole  year  the  emperor  was  before  the 
city  and  though  he  made  frequent  attacks  upon  it, 
he  was  no  nearer  taking  it  than  on  the  first  day  of 
his  arrival.  At  the  beginning  of  the  second  year 
there  came  to  visit  him  the  brothers  of  Helen 
Luyddawc  from  the  Island  of  Britain,  and  a  small 
host  with  them.  Though  the  host  was  few  in  num- 
bers yet  they  were  better  warriors  than  twice  as 
many  Romans.  The  emperor  was  told  that  a  host 
was  seen  halting  close  to  his  army  and  encamping; 
and  as  he  looked  upon  them  he  thought  that  no 
man  ever  saw  a  fairer  or  better  appointed  host  for 
its  size  nor  more  handsome  standards. 

When  Helen,  the  empress,  heard  of  the  arrival 
of  the  stranger  band  she  went  out  to  look  upon 

274 


fftom  tbe  fl&abtnofiton 

them,  and  she  knew  the  standards  of  her  brothers, 
and  she  told  the  emperor  who  they  were.  And 
Kynan,  the  son  of  Eudav,  and  Adeon,  the  son  of 
Eudav,  came  to  meet  the  emperor;  and  the  em- 
peror was  glad  because  of  them  and  gave  them  fit- 
ting welcome  and  embraced  them. 

On  the  morrow  as  the  Romans  renewed  their  at- 
tack upon  the  city  the  men  of  Britain  looked  upon 
the  battle  and  observed  the  defense.  And  Kynan 
said  to  his  brothers,  "We  will  try  to  attack  the  city 
more  expertly  than  this."  So  they  measured  by 
night  the  height  of  the  wall,  and  they  sent  their 
carpenters  to  the  woods  to  prepare  long  and  slen- 
der poles  out  of  which  they  made  a  ladder  for  every 
four  men  of  their  number. 

Now  it  was  that  very  day  at  midday  the  two  em- 
perors went  to  meat,  and  they  ceased  to  fight  on 
both  sides  till  all  had  finished  eating.  So  in  the 
morning  the  men  of  Britain  took  their  food,  and 
they  drank  until  they  were  strong  and  ready  for 
the  attack.  And  while  the  two  emperors  were  at 
meat,  the  Britons  came  to  the  city  and  placed  their 
ladders  againt  the  wall,  and  forthwith  they 
mounted  their  ladders  and  entered  the  city. 

So  sudden  was  the  attack  that  the  new  emperor 
had  no  time  to  arm  himself,  and  so  they  fell  upon 
him  and  slew  him  and  many  others  with  him.  And 
three  nights  and  three  days  were  they  subduing 
the  men  that  were  in  the  city  and  taking  the  cas- 
tle. And  others  of  them  kept  the  city,  lest  any  of 

275 


member  Stotie0 

of  the  host  of  Maxen  should  come  therein,  until 
they  had  subjected  all  to  their  will. 

Then  spake  Maxen  to  Helen  Luyddawc,  and 
said,  "I  marvel,  lady,  that  thy  brothers  have  not 
conquered  this  city  for  me." 

"Lord,  emperor,  she  answered,  "the  wisest 
youths  in  the  world  are  my  brothers.  Go  thou 
thither  and  ask  the  city  of  them,  and  if  it  be  in  their 
possession  thou  shalt  have  it  gladly." 

So  the  emperor  and  Helen  went  and  demanded 
the  city  of  the  Britons.  And  they  told  the  emperor 
that  none  had  taken  the  city  and  that  none  could 
give  it  to  him,  but  the  men  of  the  Island  of  Britain. 
Then  the  gates  of  the  city  of  Rome  were  opened, 
and  the  emperor  entered  it  with  great  pomp  and 
sat  on  the  throne,  and  all  the  men  of  Rome  sub- 
mitted themselves  unto  him. 

The  emperor  then  said  unto  Kynan  and  Adeon, 
"Lords,"  said  he,  "I  have  now  possession  of  the 
whole  of  my  empire,  and  no  longer  need  the  aid  of 
my  brave  warriors.  This  host  I  give  unto  you  to 
vanquish  whatever  region  you  may  desire  in  all 
the  world.  And  whatever  lands  you  may  conquer 
those  you  may  occupy  and  your  descendants  for- 
ever." 

So  they  set  forth  with  a  great  host  of  warriors 
and  conquered  many  lands  and  castles  and  cities. 
And  they  slew  all  the  men  of  these  lands,  but  the 
women  they  kept  alive  for  the  wives  of  the  war- 
riors. And  thus  they  continued  until  the  young 

276 


Jftom  the  HDairinogiort 

men  who  had  come  with  them  were  grown  gray- 
headed,  from  the  length  of  time  they  were  upon 
this  conquest. 

Then  spoke  Kynan  unto  Adeon,  his  brother, 
saying,  "Wilt  thou  rather  tarry  in  this  land,  or  go 
back  unto  the  land  whence  thou  didst  come  forth  ?" 

And  Adeon  answered,  VI  will  go  back  to  my 
own  land." 

So  he  chose  to  go  back  to  his  own  land,  and 
many  of  his  people  went  with  him.  But  Kynan 
tarried  in  the  country  and  settled  there  in  a  part 
that  is  now  called  the  land  of  Brittany.  And  they 
took  counsel  and  cut  out  the  tongues  of  all  the 
women  they  had  captured  so  that  they  could  not 
talk  and  thus  corrupt  the  speech  of  their  captors. 
And  because  of  the  silence  of  the  women  from  their 
own  speech  the  language  of  the  Britons  was  pre- 
served, and  there  you  can  hear  it  spoken  unto  this 
day. 

And  this  is  called  the  Dream  of  Maxen  Wledig, 
Emperor  of  Rome.  And  here  it  ends. 

Maxen  Wledig  Is  supposed  to  be  the  Emperor  Maximus, 
A.  D.  383,  who  was  in  Britain  with  his  army  when  he 
obtained  the  throne.  Manv  stories  about  him  were  cur- 
rent among  the  people  of  Wales.  It  is  said  that  he  ren- 
dered pa'-t  of  Britain  desolate  by  transporting  many  of 
the  people  l^to  Onul.  where  they  are  supposed  to  have 
formed  tM  P-Pt^n  'mm'eTation.  He  was  put  to  d^ath 
pfter  h^vlne;  be'n  defend  by  Theodosius  and  Valentinlan 
the  Younger,  in  388  A.  D. 


277 


SHie  £>torp  of  ]Uub&  and  ilieb  elpg 

ANY  years  ago  in  Wales  lived  a  king 
named  Beli  the  Great.  He  had  three 
sons,  Lludd,  Caswallawn  and  Nynyaw, 
and  also  a  younger  son  named  Llevelys.  After 
the  death  of  Beli,  the  kingdom  of  the  Island  of 
Britain  fell  into  the  hands  of  Lludd,  his  eldest  son. 
He  was  a  great  warrior  and  ruled  prosperously, 
and  rebuilt  the  walls  of  London,  and  encompassed 
the  city  with  numberless  towers.  He  also  bade 
the  citizens  build  houses  therein,  such  as  no 
houses  in  the  kingdom  could  equal  in  size  and 
beauty.  And  though  he  had  many  castles  and 
cities,  he  loved  this  city  more  than  any  other;  and 
he  dwelt  therein  most  of  the  year.  Therefore  it 
was  called  Caer  Lludd,  and  at  last  Caer  London, 
Now  Lludd  loved  Llevelys  best  of  all  his  broth- 
ers, because  he  was  a  wise  and  discreet  man.  Hav- 
ing heard  that  the  King  of  France  had  died,  leav- 
ing no  heir  except  a  daughter,  and  that  he  had  left 
all  his  possessions  in  her  hands,  Llevelys  came  to 

278 


ffrom  tbe  HDabtnoaion 

Lludd  his  brother  to  beseech  his  counsel  whether 
he  might  go  to  France  to  woo  the  maiden  for  his 
wife.  And  he  did  this,  not  so  much  for  his  own 
welfare  as  to  seek  to  add  to  the  glory  and  honor 
and  dignity  of  his  kindred. 

This  proposal  was  pleasing  to  the  king,  so 
Llevelys  prepared  ships,  and  filled  them  with 
armed  knights,  and  set  forth  towards  France.  As 
soon  as  they  had  landed,  they  sent  messengers  to 
the  nobles  of  France  to  explain  the  cause  of  the 
embassy.  And  through  the  counsel  of  the  nobles 
of  France  and  of  the  princes,  the  maiden  was  given 
to  Llevelys,  and  the  crown  of  the  kingdom  with 
her.  And  thenceforth  he  ruled  the  land  discreetly 
and  wisely  and  happily  as  long  as  he  lived. 

Now  it  happened  on  a  time  that  three  plagues 
fell  on  the  Island  of  Britain,  such  as  none  in  the 
islands  had  ever  seen  the  like  of  before.  The  first 
was  a  certain  race  that  came,  called  the  Coranions; 
and  so  great  was  their  knowledge,  that  there  was 
no  discourse  upon  the  face  of  the  island,  however 
low  it  might  be  spoken,  but  that  if  the  wind  met  it, 
it  was  known  to  them.  And  through  this  knowl- 
edge they  could  not  be  injured. 

The  second  plague  was  a  shriek  which  came  on 
every  May-eve  to  every  home  in  the  Island  of 
Britain.  So  loud  was  the  shriek  that  it  went 
through  the  people's  hearts,  and  scared  them  so 
greatly  that  the  men  lost  their  hue  and  their 
strength,  and  the  young  men  and  the  maidens  lost 

279 


"Cdonfccr  Stories 

their  senses,  and  all  the  animals  and  trees,  and  the 
earth  and  the  waters,  were  left  barren. 

The  third  plague  was,  that  however  much  food 
and  provisions  might  be  prepared  in  the  king's 
courts,  none  of  it  could  ever  be  found,  except  what 
was  consumed  in  the  first  night.  Of  these  two 
plagues  no  one  ever  knew  the  cause,  therefore 
there  seemed  better  hope  of  being  freed  from  the 
first  than  from  the  second  and  third. 

Now  King  Lludd  felt  great  sorrow  and  care,  be- 
cause that  he  knew  not  how  he  might  be  freed  from 
these  plagues.  So  he  called  to  him  all  the  nobles 
of  his  kingdom,  and  asked  counsel  of  them  what 
they  should  do  against  these  afflictions.  Then  by 
the  common  counsel  of  the  nobles  it  was  thought 
best  for  King  Lludd  to  go  to  Llevelys,  his  brother, 
King  of  France,  for  he  was  a  man  great  of  counsel 
and  wisdom,  to  seek  his  advice. 

Soon  they  made  ready  a  fleet,  and  that  in  secret 
and  in  silence,  that  no  one  should  know  the  cause 
of  their  errand  besides  the  king  and  his  counsellors. 
When  they  were  ready,  they  went  into  their  ships, 
Lludd  and  those  whom  he  chose  to  go  with  him. 
And  they  began  to  cleave  the  seas  towards  France. 

Now  when  these  tidings  came  to  Llevelys,  see- 
ing that  he  knew  not  the  cause  of  his  brothers 
ships,  he  came  from  the  other  side  to  meet  him, 
and  with  him  was  a  fleet  vast  of  size.  When  Lludd 
saw  this,  he  left  all  the  ships  out  upon  the  sea  ex- 
cept one  only;  and  in  that  one  he  came  to  meet 

280 


jftom  tbe  flDabinofiion 

his  brother,  and  he  likewise  with  a  single  ship 
came  to  meet  him.  When  they  were  come  to- 
gether, each  put  his  arms  about  the  other's  neck, 
and  they  welcomed  each  other  with  brotherly  love. 

When  Lludd  had  shown  his  brother  the  cause  of 
his  errand,  Llevelys  said  that  he  himself  knew  the 
cause  of  his  coming  to  visit  him.  So  they  took 
counsel  together  to  discourse  on  the  matter  in  a 
manner  that  the  wind  might  not  catch  their  words, 
nor  the  Coranians  know  what  they  might  say.  For 
this  purpose  Llevelys  caused  a  long  horn  to  be 
made  of  brass,  and  through  this  horn  they  dis- 
coursed together;  but  whatsoever  words  they 
spoke  through  this'horn,  one  to  the  other,  neither 
of  them  could  hear  any  other  but  harsh  and  hostile 
words.  When  Llevelys  saw  this,  and  that  there 
was  a  demon  thwarting  them,  and  disturbing  them 
through  this  horn,  he  caused  wine  to  be  put  there- 
in to  cleanse  it.  And  through  the  virtue  of  the 
wine  the  demon  was  driven  out  of  the  horn. 

Now  when  their  discourse  was  unobstructed, 
Llevelys  told  his  brother  that  he  would  give  him 
some  insects,  whereof  he  should  keep  some  to 
breed;  and  the  others  he  should  take  and  bruise 
in  water.  And  he  assured  him  that  the  mixture 
would  have  power  to  destroy  the  race  of  the  Cora- 
nians. He  also  advised  him  that  when  he  came 
home  to  his  kingdom,  he  should  call  together  all 
the  people,  both  of  his  own  race  and  of  the  race 
of  the  Coranians,  for  a  conference,  as  though  with 

281 


TOonfcer  Stories 

the  intent  of  making  peace  between  them,  and  that 
when  they  were  all  together  he  should  take  this 
charmed  water,  and  cast  it  over  all  alike.  And  he 
assured  him  that  the  water  would  poison  the  race 
of  the  Coranians,  but  that  it  would  not  slay  or 
harm  those  of  his  own  race. 

"As  for  the  second  plague,"  said  he,  "that  is  in 
thy  dominion,  behold  that  is  a  dragon.  And  an- 
other dragon  of  a  foreign  race  is  righting  with  it, 
and  striving  to  overcome  it;  and  therefore  does 
your  dragon  make  a  fearful  outcry.  And  on  this 
wise  thou  mayest  come  to  know  this.  After  thou 
hast  returned  home,  cause  the  island  to  be  meas- 
ured in  its  length  and  breadth;  and  in  the  place 
where  thou  dost  find  the  exact  central  point,  cause 
there  a  pit  to  be  dug,  and  cause  a  caldron  full  of 
the  best  mead  that  can  be  made  to  be  put  in  the 
pit,  with  a  covering  of  satin  over  the  face  of  the 
caldron.  And  then  do  thou  thyself  remain  there 
watching,  and  thou  wilt  see  the  dragons  fighting 
in  the  form  of  terrific  animals.  As  they  fight  they, 
will  take  the  form  of  dragons  in  the  air;  and  after 
wearying  themselves  with  fierce  and  furious  fight- 
ing, they  will  fall,  in  the  form  of  two  pigs,  upon 
the  covering,  and  they  will  sink  in,  and  the  cov- 
ering with  them,  and  they  will  draw  it  down  to  the 
very  bottom  of  the  caldron.  Then  they  will  drink 
up  the  whole  of  the  mead;  and  after  that  they 
will  sleep.  Thereupon  do  thou  immediately  fold 
the  covering  around  them,  and  bury  them  in  a 

282 


ffrom  tbe  nDabinogion 

kistvaen  in  the  strongest  place  thou  hast  in  thy 
dominions,  and  hide  them  in  the  earth.  And  as 
long  as  they  shall  abide  in  that  strong  place,  no 
plague  shall  come  to  the  Island  of  Britain  from 
elsewhere. 

"The  cause  of  the  third  plague,"  said  he,  "is  a 
mighty  man  of  magic,  who  takes  thy  meat  and 
thy  drink  and  thy  provisions.  And  it  is  through 
illusions  and  charms  that  he  causes  every  one  to 
sleep.  Therefore  it  is  needful  for  thee  in  thy  own 
person  to  watch  thy  food  and  thy  drink  and  thy 
provisions.  And  lest  he  should  overcome  thee 
with  sleep,  let  there  be  a  caldron  of  cold  water  by 
thy  side;  and  when  thou  art  oppressed  with  sleep, 
plunge  into  the  caldron." 

Then  Lludd  returned  again  unto  his  own  coun- 
try. And  immediately  he  summoned  to  him  the 
whole  of  his  own  people  and  also  the  Coranians. 
And,  as  Llevelys  had  taught  him,  he  bruised  the 
insects  in  water,  and  cast  the  water  over  them 
all  together,  and  forthwith  it  destroyed  the  whole 
tribe  of  the  Coranians,  without  hurt  to  any  of  the 
Britons. 

Soon  after  this  Lludd  caused  the  island  to  be 
measured  in  its  length  and  in  its  breadth.  The 
central  point  was  found  in  Oxford,  and  in  that 
place  he  caused  a  pit  to  be  dug  in  the  earth,  and 
in  that  pit  a  caldron  to  be  set  full  of  the  best  mead 
that  could  be  made,  and  a  covering  of  satin  placed 
over  the  face  of  it.  And  he  himself  watched  that 

283 


night;  and  while  he  was  watching,  he  beheld  the 
dragons  fighting.  And  when  they  were  weary 
with  their  conflict  they  fell,  and  came  down  upon 
the  top  of  the  satin,  and  drew  it  with  them  to  the 
bottom  of  the  caldron.  And  when  they  had  drunk 
the  mead  they  slept.  As  they  slept  Lludd  folded 
the  covering  around  them,  and  in  the  securest 
place  he  had  in  Snowdon  he  hid  them  in  a  kistvaen. 
After  that,  this  spot  was  called  Dinas  Emrys,  but 
before  that,  Dinas  Ffaraon.  And  thus  the  fierce 
outcry  ceased  in  his  dominions. 

Now  when  this  was  ended,  King  Lludd  caused 
an  exceedingly  great  banquet  to  be  prepared.  Arid 
when  it  was  ready,  he  placed  a  vessel  of  cold  water 
by  his  side,  and  he  in  his  own  person  watched  it. 
As  he  abode  thus  clad  with  arms,  about  the  third 
watch  of  the  night,  lo,  he  heard  many  surpassing 
fascinations  and  various  songs.  And  drowsiness 
urged  him  to  sleep;  but  lest  he  should  be  hindered 
from  his  purpose,  and  be  overcome  by  sleep,  he 
went  often  into  the  water.  At  last,  behold  a  man 
of  vast  size,  clad  in  strong,  heavy  armor,  came  in, 
bearing  a  hamper.  And  as  he  was  wont,  he  put  all 
the  food  and  provisions  of  meat  and  drink  into  the 
hamper,  and  proceeded  to  go  forth  with  it.  And 
nothing  was  ever  more  wonderful  to  Lludd  than 
that  the  hamper  should  hold  so  much. 

Thereupon  King  Lludd  went  after  him,  and 
spoke  unto  him  thus:  "Stop,  stop,"  said  he, 
"though  thou  hast  done  many  insults  and  much 

284 


Jtom  tbe  flDabinogfon 

spoil  erewhile,  thou  shalt  not  do  so  any  more,  un- 
less thy  skill  in  arms  and  thy  prowess  be  greater 
than  mine." 

Then  the  giant  instantly  put  down  the  hamper 
on  the  floor,  and  awaited  him.  And  a  fierce  battle 
was  fought  between  them,  so  that  the  glittering 
fire  flew  out  from  their  arms.  At  the  last  Lludd 
grappled  with  him,  and  fate  bestowed  the  victory 
on  the  king;  and  he  threw  the  plague  to  the  earth. 
And  after  he  had  overcome  him  by  strength  and 
might  the  giant  besought  his  mercy. 

"How  can  I  grant  thee  mercy,"  said  the  king, 
"after  all  the  many  injuries  and  wrongs  that  thou 
hast  done  me?" 

"For  all  the  losses  that  ever  I  have  caused  thee/' 
said  he,  "I  will  make  thee  an  atonement  equal  to 
what  I  have  taken.  And  I  will  never  do  the  like 
from  this  time  forth,  but  will  be  thy  faithful  vassal." 

The  king  accepted  this  promise  and  granted 
mercy  to  him.  And  thus  the  land  was  delivered 
from  all  the  plagues  that  had  disturbed  it,  by  the 
wisdom  of  Llevelys  and  the  valor  of  King  Lludd. 
And  from  that  time  until  the  end  of  his  life  did 
Lludd  rule  over  the  Island  of  Britain. 

Lludd  Is  the  celebrated  King  Lludd,  brother  to  Caesar's 
great  opponent  Cassibelaunis.  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth,  in 
his  history  of  the  Britons,  records  his  fortifying  and 
decorating  the  city  in  nearly  the  same  terms  as  the 
MabinogJ,  stating  that  it  was  from  him  called  Caerlud, 
afterward  corrupted  into  Caer  London,  then  into  London, 
and  lastly  by  the  foreigners  into  Londres. 

283 


"CQonfcer  Stories 


Among  the  Welsh  legends  one  of  the  most  curious  is 
that  of  the  imprisonment  of  the  Dragons  in  Dinas  Emrys 
in  Snowdon.  This  story  is  related  by  Geoffrey,  and  it  is 
found  in  Nennius,  who  wrote  in  the  eighth  century,  and 
of  whose  works  some  copies  as  old  as  the  tenth  century 
are  still  extant.  The  red  dragon  has  long  been  the  natural 
standard  of  the  Welsh,  and  was  borne  by  Henry  VII  at 
Bosworth  field. 


286 


Lleto  Li  a  to  and  tji*  Wife 

CEijapttt  I 

ttotu  Lie  to  tlate>0otfji*  /lame  an*  t)i«  tUift, 

ANY  years  ago,  Math,  son  of  Mathony, 
was  lord  over  Gwynedd;  and  Gwydion 
was  his  brother.  As  Gwydion  lay  one 
morning  upon  his  bed,  he  heard  a  cry  in  the  chest 
at  his  feet;  and  though  it  was  not  loud,  it  was  such 
that  he  could  hear  it  distinctly.  Then  he  arose  in 
haste,  and  opened  the  chest;  and  when  he  opened 
it,  he  beheld  an  infant  boy  stretching  out  his  arms 
from  the  folds  of  the  scarf,  and  casting  it  aside. 
Taking  up  the  boy  in  his  arms,  he  carried  him  to 
a  place  where  he  knew  there  was  a  woman  that 
could  nurse  him.  And  he  agreed  with  the  woman 
that  she  should  take  charge  of  the  boy.  And  she 
nursed  him  that  year. 

At  the  end  of  the  year  he  seemed  by  his  size  as 
though  he  were  two  years  old.  And  the  second 
year  he  was  so  large  that  he  was  able  to  go  to  the 
court  by  himself.  When  he  came  to  the  court, 
Gwydion  noticed  him,  and  the  boy  became  familiar 
with  him,  and  loved  him  better  than  any  one  else. 
So  the  boy  was  reared  at  the  court  until  he  was 

287 


Monger  Stories 

four  years  old,  when  he  was  as  big  as  an  ordinary 
boy  eight  years  old. 

One  day  Gwydion  walked  forth,  and  the  boy 
followed  him;  and  he  went  to  the  Castle  of  Arian- 
rod,  having  the  boy  with  him.  And  when  he  came 
into  the  court,  Arianrod,  the  owner  of  the  castle, 
arose  to  meet  him,  and  greeted  him,  and  bade  him 
welcome. 

"Heaven  prosper  thee,"  said  Gwydion. 

"What  is  the  name  of  the  boy  you  have  with 
you  ?"  said  Arianrod. 

"Verily,"  he  replied,  "he  has  not  yet  a  name." 

"Well,"  she  said,  "I  lay  this  destiny  upon  him, 
that  he  shall  never  have  a  name  until  he  receives 
one  from  me." 

"Heaven  bears  me  witness,"  answered  he,  "that 
thou  art  a  wicked  woman.  But  the  boy  shall  have 
a  name,  however  displeasing  it  may  be  unto  thee." 
And  thereupon  he  went  forth  in  wrath,  and  re- 
turned to  Caer  Dathyl,  and  there  he  tarried  that 
night. 

The  next  day  he  arose  and  took  the  boy  with 
him,  and  went  to  walk  on  the  seashore  between 
that  place  and  Aber  Menei.  And  there  he  saw 
some  sedges  and  seaweed,  and  he  gathered  some  of 
them  and  turned  them  into  a  boat.  And  out  of 
dry  sticks  and  sedges  he  made  some  Cordovan 
leather;  and  he  colored  it  in  such  a  manner  that 
no  one  ever  saw  leather  more  beautiful  than  it. 
Then  he  made  a  sail  to  the  boat,  and  he  and  the 

288 


t)c  came  into  ttje  court 
Hnanro&  arouc  to  meet 


Jtom  the  n&abinogion 

boy  went  in  it  to  the  port  of  the  Castle  of  Arianrod. 
And  there  he  began  making  shoes,  and  stitching 
them,  until  he  was  observed  from  the  castle.  Now 
when  he  knew  that  they  of  the  castle  were  observ- 
ing him,  he  disguised  himself  and  the  boy,  so  that 
they  might  not  be  known. 

When  Arianrod  saw  them,  she  said,  "What  men 
are  those  in  yonder  boat?" 

"They  are  cordwainers,"  they  answered. 

"Go  and  see  what  kind  of  leather  they  have,  and 
what  kind  of  work  they  can  do,"  said  she. 

So  they  came  unto  them,  and  found  Gwydion 
coloring  some  Cordovan  leather,  and  gilding  it. 
And  the  messengers  came  and  told  her  this. 

"Well,"  said  she,  "take  the  measure  of  my  foot, 
and  bid  the  cordwainer  to  make  shoes  for  me." 

So  Gwydion  made  a  pair  of  shoes  for  her,  yet  not 
according  to  the  measure,  but  larger.  The  shoes 
were  then  brought  unto  her,  and  behold  they  were 
too  large. 

"These  are  too  large,"  said  she;  "but  he  shall 
receive  their  value.  Bid  him  also  to  make  some 
that  are  smaller  than  these." 

Then  he  made  her  another  pair  of  shoes  that 
were  much  smaller  than  her  feet,  and  sent  them 
unto  her. 

"Tell  him,"  she  said,  "that  these  are  too  small 
and  will  not  go  on  my  feet."  And  they  told  him 
this. 

"Verily,"  said  he,  "I  will  not  make  her  any  more 

289 


Wlonber  Stories 

shoes  unless  I  see  her  foot."  And  this  was  told 
unto  her. 

"Truly,"  she  answered,  "then  I  will  go  unto 
him." 

So  she  went  down  to  the  boat,  and  when  she 
came  there  he  was  shaping  shoes,  and  the  boy  was 
stitching  them. 

"Ah,  lady,"  said  he,  "good  day  to  thee." 

"Heaven  prosper  thee,"  said  she.  "I  marvel 
that  thou  canst  not  manage  to  make  shoes  accord- 
ing to  measure." 

"I  could  not,"  he  replied;  "but  now  I  shall  be 
able." 

Thereupon  behold  a  wren  stood  upon  the  deck 
of  the  boat;  and  the  boy  shot  at  it,  and  hit  it  in  the 
leg  between  the  sinew  and  the  bone.  At  this  the 
lady  smiled  and  said,  "Verily,  with  a  steady  hand 
did  the  lion  aim  at  it." 

"Heaven  reward  thee  not;  but  now  has  he  got  a 
name.  And  a  good  enough  name  it  is.  Llew  Llaw 
Gyffes  he  shall  be  called  henceforth,  for  that  is  the 
meaning  of  thy  words." 

Then  all  the  work  disappeared  in  seaweed  and 
sedges,  and  he  went  on  with  it  no  further.  And 
for  that  reason  was  he  called  the  third  Gold-shoe- 
maker. 

"Of  a  truth,"  said  Arianrod,  "thou  wilt  not 
thrive  the  better  for  doing  evil  unto  me." 

"I  have  done  thee  no  evil  yet,"  answered 
290 


from  tbe  flDa&inogion 

Gwydion.  Then  he  restored  the  boy  to  his  own 
form. 

"Well,"  said  she,  "I  will  lay  a  destiny  upon  this 
boy,  that  he  shall  never  have  arms  and  armor  until 
I  invest  him  with  them." 

"By  Heaven,"  said  he,  "let  thy  malice  be  what 
it  may,  he  shall  have  arms." 

Then  they  went  towards  Dinas  Dinllev,  and 
there  he  brought  up  Llew  Llaw  Gyffes  until  he 
could  manage  any  horse,  and  he  was  perfect  in 
features  and  strength  and  stature.  And  when 
Gwydion  saw  that  he  languished  through  the  want 
of  horses  and  arms,  he  called  him  unto  him,  and 
said,  "Ah,  youth,  we  will  go  to-morrow  on  an  er- 
rand together.  Be  therefore  more  cheerful  than 
thou  art." 

"That  I  will,"  said  the  youth. 

Next  morning,  at  the  dawn  of  day,  they  arose; 
and  they  took  their  way  along  the  seacoast,  up 
towards  Bryn  Aryen.  And  at  the  top  of  Cevn 
Clydno  they  equipped  themselves  with  horses,  and 
went  toward  the  Castle  of  Arianrod.  And  they 
changed  their  form,  and  rode  towards  the  gate  in 
the  semblance  of  two  youths;  but  the  aspect  of 
Gwydion  was  more  staid  than  that  of  the  other. 

"Porter,"  said  he,  "go  thou  in  and  say  that  there 
are  here  two  bards  from  Glamorgan." 

So  the  porter  went  in,  and  told  him  as  he  was 
bidden. 


Hfflotfter  3torte0 

"The  welcome  of  Heaven  be  unto  them.  Let 
them  in,"  said  Arianrod. 

As  they  entered  they  were  greeted  with  great 
joy;  and  soon  the  hall  was  arranged,  and  they  went 
to  meat.  When  meat  was  ended,  Arianrod  dis- 
coursed with  Gwydion  of  tales  and  stories,  for 
Gwydion  was  an  excellent  teller  of  tales.  And 
when  it  was  time  to  leave  off  feasting  and  the  tell- 
ing of  tales,  a  chamber  was  prepared  for  them,  and 
they  went  to  rest. 

In  the  early  twilight  Gwydion  arose,  and  he 
called  unto  him  his  magic  and  his  power  of  en- 
chantment. And  by  the  time  that  the  day  dawned, 
there  resounded  through  the  land  a  great  uproar, 
and  trumpets  and  shouts.  When  it  was  now  day, 
they  heard  a  knocking  at  the  door  of  the  cham- 
ber, and  therewith  Arianrod  asking  that  it  might 
be  opened.  So  up  rose  the  youth  and  opened  the 
door  unto  her,  and  she  entered,  and  a  maiden  with 
her. 

"Ah,  good  men,"  she  said,  "in  an  evil  plight  are 
we." 

"Yes,  truly,"  said  Gwydion,  "we  have  heard 
trumpets,  and  shouts.  What  thinkest  thou  that 
they  may  mean?" 

"Verily,"  said  she,  "we  cannot  see  the  color  of 
the  ocean  by  reason  of  all  the  ships  side  by  side. 
And  they  are  making  for  the  land  with  all  the  speed 
they  can.  And  what  can  we  do  ?"  said  she. 

"Lady,"   said   Gwydion,   "there  is  nqne  other 


fftom  tbe  flDalrinoaion 

counsel  than  to  close  the  castle  upon  us,  and  to 
defend  it  as  best  we  may." 

"Truly,"  said  she,  "may  Heaven  reward  you; 
and  do  you  defend  it.  And  here  may  you  have 
plenty  of  arms." 

And  thereupon  she  went  forth  for  the  arms,  and 
behold  she  returned,  and  the  two  maidens  with  her, 
carrying  suits  of  armor  for  two  men. 

"Lady,"  said  he,  "do  thou  accoutre  this  strip- 
ling, and  I  will  arm  myself,  with  the  help  of  thy 
maidens.  Lo,  I  hear  the  tumult  of  the  men  ap- 
proaching." 

"I  will  do  so  gladly,"  she  replied.  So  she  armed 
him  fully,  and  that  right  cheerfully. 

"Hast  thou  finished  arming  the  youth?"  said 
Gwydion. 

"I  have  finished,"  she  answered. 

"I  likewise  have  finished,"  said  Gwydion.  "Let 
us  now  take  off  our  arms;  for  we  have  no  need  of 
them." 

"Wherefore?"  said  she.  "Here  is  the  army 
around  the  house." 

"Oh,  lady,  there  is  here  no  army." 

"Why!"  cried  she.  "Whence  then  was  this  tu- 
mult?" 

"The  tumult  was  but  to  break  thy  prophecy,  and 
to  obtain  arms  for  my  son.  And  now  has  he  got 
arms  without  any  thanks  unto  thee." 

"By  Heaven,"  said  Arianrod,  "thou  art  a  wicked 
man.  Many  a  youth  might  have  lost  his  life 

293 


Monger  Storied 

through  the  uproar  thou  hast  caused  in  this  can- 
trev  to-day.  Now  will  I  lay  a  destiny  upon  this 
youth,"  she  said,  "that  he  shall  never  have  a  wife 
of  the  race  that  now  inhabits  this  earth." 

"Verily,"  said  he,  "thou  wast  ever  a  malicious 
woman,  and  no  one  ought  to  support  thee.  A  wife 
shall  he  have  notwithstanding." 

Thereupon  they  went  unto  Math,  the  son  of 
Mathonwy,  and  complained  unto  him  most  bitterly 
of  Arianrod,  and  Gwydion  showed  him  also  how 
he  had  procured  arms  for  the  youth.  "Well,"  said 
Math,  "we  will  seek,  I  and  thou,  by  charms  and  il- 
lusion, to  form  a  wife  for  him  out  of  flowers.  He 
has  now  come  to  man's  stature,  and  he  is  the  come- 
liest  youth  that  was  ever  beheld." 

So  they  took  the  blossoms  of  the  oak,  and  the 
blossoms  of  the  broom,  and  the  blossoms  of  the 
meadow-sweet,  and  produced  from  them  a  maiden, 
the  fairest  and  most  graceful  that  man  ever  saw. 
And  they  baptized  her,  and  gave  her  the  name  of 
Blodeuwedd. 

And  after  she  had  become  his  bride,  and  they 
had  feasted,  Gwydion  said,  "It  is  not  easy  for  a 
man  to  maintain  himself  without  possessions." 

"Of  a  truth,"  said  Math,  "I  will  give  the  young 
man  the  best  cantrev  that  I  possess." 

"And  what  cantrev  is  that?"  he  inquired. 

"The  Cantrev  of  Dinodig,"  he  answered. 

Now  the  cantrev  is  called  at  this  day  Eivionydd 
and  Ardudwy.  And  the  place  in  the  cantrev  where 

294 


fftom  tbe  fl&abinogion 

he  dwelt  was  a  palace  in  a  spot  called  Mur  y  Cas- 
tell,  on  the  confines  of  Ardudwy.  And  there  he 
dwelt  and  reigned,  and  both  he  and  his  sway  were 
beloved  by  all  the  people. 


295 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  FATE  OF  LLEW  LLAW  AND  HIS  WIFE 

ONE  day  Llew  Llaw  went  forth  to  Caer 
Dathyl  to  visit  Math.  And  on  the  day 
that  he  set  out  for  Caer  Dathyl,  his  wife 
Blodeuwedd  walked  in  the  court.  And  she  heard 
the  sound  of  a  horn;  and  after  the  sound  of  the 
horn  she  saw  a  tired  stag  go  by,  with  dogs  and 
huntsmen  following  it.  And  after  the  dogs  and 
the  huntsmen  there  came  a  crowd  of  men  on  foot. 
Seeing  these  she  said,  "Send  a  youth  to  ask  who 
yonder  host  may  be." 

So  a  youth  was  sent  and  inquired  who  they  were. 
And  they  said,  "This  is  Gronw  Pebyr,  the  lord  of 
Penllynn."  And  this  the  youth  reported  to  her. 

Now  Gronw  Pebyr  pursued  the  stag,  and  by  the 
River  Cynvael  he  overtook  it  and  killed  it.  And 
what  with  flaying  the  stag,  and  baiting  his  dogs, 
he  was  there  until  the  night  began  to  close  in  upon 
him.  As  the  day  departed  and  the  night  drew  near, 
he  came  to  the  gate  of  the  court  to  seek  entrance 
into  the  castle. 

"Verily,"  said  Blodeuwedd,  "the  chieftain  will 
speak  ill  of  us  if  we  let  him  at  this  hour  depart  to 
another  land  without  inviting  him  in." 

296 


fftom  tbe  flDabinogton 

"Yes,  truly,  lady,"  said  they,  "it  will  be  most  fit' 
ting  to  invite  him  to  enter." 

So  they  sent  messengers  to  meet  him  and  bid 
him  to  come  in.  And  he  accepted  her  bidding 
gladly,  and  came  to  the  court;  and  Blodeuwedd 
went  to  meet  him  and  greeted  him,  and  bade  him 
welcome.  "Lady,"  said  he,  "Heaven  repay  thee 
for  thy  kindness."  And  he  spent  the  night  in  the 
castle. 

Now  as  Blodeuwedd  and  Gronw  Pebyr  con- 
versed together  they  fell  deeply  in  love  with  each 
other,  and  forgetting  her  wifely  duty  she  began  to 
plot  with  Gronw  how  they  might  slay  her  hus- 
band and  enjoy  his  possessions.  So  it  was  agreed 
that  she  should  find  out  by  what  means  he  might 
come  to  his  death. 

The  following  day  Llew  Llaw  Gyffes  returned 
to  his  home,  and  the  day  was  spent  in  discourse 
and  minstrelsy  and  feasting.  And  at  night  when 
they  went  to  rest,  he  spoke  to  Blodeuwedd,  and 
receiving  no  answer  he  spoke  to  her  a  second  time. 
But  for  all  this  he  could  not  get  from  her  one  word. 
"What  aileth  thee  ?"  said  he.  "Art  thou  not  well  ?" 

"I  was  thinking,"  said  she,  "of  that  which  thou 
didst  never  think  of  concerning  me;  for  I  was  sor- 
rowful as  to  thy  death,  lest  thou  shouldst  go  sooner 
than  I." 

"Heaven  reward  thee  for  thy  care  for  me,"  said 
he.  "But  until  Heaven  take  me  I  shall  not  easily 
be  slain." 

297 


TOcmfcer  Stories 

"For  the  sake  of  Heaven,  and  for  mine,  show  me 
how  thou  mightest  be  slain.  My  memory  in 
guarding  the  secret  is  better  than  thine." 

"I  will  tell  thee  gladly,"  said  he.  "Not  easily 
can  I  be  slain,  except  by  a  wound.  And  the  spear 
wherewith  I  am  struck  must  be  a  year  in  the  form- 
ing. And  nothing  must  be  done  towards  it,  except 
during  the  sacrifice  on  Sundays." 

"Is  this  certain?"  asked  she. 

"It  is  in  truth,"  he  answered.  "And  I  cannot  be 
slain  within  a  house  nor  without  it.  I  cannot  be 
slain  on  horseback  nor  on  foot." 

"Verily,"  said  she,  "in  what  manner,  then,  canst 
thou  be  slain?" 

"I  will  tell  thee,"  said  he.  "By  making  a  bath 
for  me  by  the  side  of  a  river,  and  by  putting  a  roof 
over  the  caldron,  and  thatching  it  well  and  tightly, 
and  bringing  a  buck,  and  putting  it  beside  the  cal- 
dron. Then  if  I  place  one  foot  on  the  buck's  back, 
and  the  other  on  the  edge  of  the  caldron,  whoso- 
ever strikes  me  thus  will  cause  my  death." 

"Well,"  said  she,  "I  thank  Heaven  that  it  will  be 
easy  to  avoid  this." 

No  sooner  had  she  held  this  discourse  than  she 
sent  to  Gronw  Pebyr,  and  told  him  all  she  had 
learned.  So  to  carry  out  their  purpose  Gronw 
toiled  at  making  the  spear,  and  that  day  twelve- 
month it  was  ready.  And  that  very  day  he  caused 
her  to  be  informed  thereof. 

"Lord,"  said  Blodeuwedd  unto  Llew,  "I  have 

298 


from  the  nDabino$ton 

been  thinking  how  it  is  possible  that  what  thou 
didst  tell  me  formerly  can  be  true.  Wilt  thou 
show  me  in  what  manner  thou  couldst  stand  at 
once  upon  the  edge  of  a  caldron  and  upon  a  buck, 
if  I  prepare  the  bath  for  thee?" 

"I  will  show  thee,"  said  he. 

Then  she  sent  unto  Gronw,  and  bade  him  lie  in 
ambush  on  the  hill  which  is  called  Bryn  Kyvergyr, 
on  the  bank  of  the  River  Cynvael.  She  caused  also 
to  be  collected  all  the  goats  that  were  in  the  Can- 
trev,  and  had  them  brought  to  the  other  side  of 
the  river,  opposite  Bryn  Kyvergyr. 

On  the  next  day  she  spoke  to  her  husband  thus : 
"Lord,"  said  she,  "I  have  caused  the  roof  and  the 
bath  to  be  prepared,  and  lo !  they  are  ready." 

"Well,"  said  Llew,  "we  will  go  gladly  to  look 
at  them." 

So  the  next  day  they  came  and  looked  at  the 
bath.  "Wilt  thou  go  into  the  bath,  lord?"  said 
she* 

"Willingly  will  I  go  in,"  he  replied.  So  into  the 
bath  he  went,  and  he  anointed  himself. 

"Lord,"  said  she,  "behold  the  animals  which 
thou  didst  speak  of  as  being  called  bucks." 

"Well,"  said  he,  "cause  one  of  them  to  be  caught 
and  brought  here."  So  a  buck  was  caught  and 
brought  to  the  bath.  Then  Llew  Llaw  rose  out  of 
the  bath,  and  he  placed  one  foot  on  the  edge  of 
the  bath,  and  the  other  on  the  buck's  back. 

Thereupon  Gronw  rose  up  from  the  hill  which 

299 


Udonfcer  Stories 

is  called  Bryn  Cyvergyr,  and  he  rested  on  one 
knee,  and  he  flung  the  poisoned  dart,  and  struck 
Llaw  on  the  side,  so  that  the  shaft  started  out,  but 
the  head  of  the  dart  remained  in.  Then  he  flew  up 
in  the  form  of  an  eagle,  and  gave  a  fearful  scream; 
and  thereafter  was  he  no  more  seen. 

The  next  day  Gronw  arose  and  took  possession 
of  Ardudwy.  And  after  he  had  overcome  the  land, 
he  ruled  over  it,  so  that  Ardudwy  and  Penllyn 
were  both  under  his  sway. 

When  these  tidings  reached  Math,  the  son  of 
Mathonwy,  great  heaviness  and  grief  came  upon 
him,  and  even  much  more  upon  Gwydion  than 
upon  him.  "Lord,"  said  Gwydion,  "I  shall  never 
rest  until  I  have  tidings  of  my  nephew." 

"Verily,"  said  Math,  "may  Heaven  be  thy 
strength." 

Then  Gwydion  set  forth,  and  began  to  go  for- 
ward in  search  of  Llew  Llaw  Gyffes.  And  he  went 
through  Gwynedd  and  Powys  to  the  confines,  and 
then  on  into  Arvon,  and  there  he  came  to  the 
house  of  a  vassal  in  Maenawr  Penardd.  And  he 
alighted  at  the  house,  and  stayed  there  that  night. 
And  anon  the  man  of  the  house  and  his  household 
came  in,  and  last  of  all  there  came  the  swineherd. 
Said  the  man  of  the  house  to  the  swineherd,  "Well, 
youth,  hath  thy  sow  come  in  to-night?" 

"She  hath,"  said  he,  "and  is  this  instant  returned 
to  the  pigs." 

"Where  doth  this  sow  go?"  said  Gwydion. 

300 


fftom  tbe 

"Every  day,  when  the  sty  is  opened,  she  goeth 
forth,  and  none  can  catch  sight  of  her,  neither  is 
it  known  whither  she  goeth  any  more  than  if  she 
sank  into  the  earth." 

"Wilt  thou  grant  unto  me,"  said  Gwydion,  "not 
to  open  the  sty  to-morrow  until  I  am  beside  the 
sty  with  thee?" 

"This  will  I  do  right  gladly,"  he  answered. 

Then  they  went  to  rest.  As  soon  as  the  swine- 
herd saw  the  light  of  day,  he  awoke  Gwydion;  and 
Gwydion  arose  and  dressed  himself,  and  went  with 
the  swineherd,  and  stood  beside  the  sty.  Then  the 
swineherd  opened  the  sty;  and  as  soon  as  he 
opened  it,  behold  the  sow  leaped  forth,  and  set  off 
with  great  speed;  and  Gwydion  followed  her.  She 
went  against  the  course  of  a  river,  and  made  for  a 
brook,  which  is  now  called  Nant  y  Llew;  and  there 
she  halted,  and  began  feeding  under  a  tree.  As 
Gwydion  came  under  the  tree  and  looked  upward, 
he  beheld  on  the  top  of  the  tree  an  eagle.  And  it 
seemed  to  him  that  the  eagle  was  Llew.  Then  he 
sang  an  Englyn: — 

"Oak  that  grows  between  the  two  banks; 
Darkened  is  the  sky  and  hill ! 
Shall  I  not  tell  him  by  my  wounds, 
That  this  is  Llew?" 

Upon  this  the  eagle  came  down  until  he  reached 
the  centre  of  the  tree.  And  Gwydion  sang  another 
Englyn : — 

301 


TOonfcer  Stories 

"Oak  that  grows  in  upland  ground, 
Is  it  not  wetted  by  the  rain?    Has  it  not  been 

drenched 

By  ninescore  tempests? 
It  bears  in  its  branches  Llew  Llaw  Gyffes !" 

Then  the  eagle  came  down  until  he  was  on  the 
lowest  branch  of  the  tree,  and  thereupon  this  En- 
glyn  did  Gwydion  sing: — 

"Oak  that  grows  beneath  the  steep; 
Stately  and  majestic  is  its  aspect ! 
Shall  I  not  speak  it? 
That  Llaw  will  come  to  my  lap  ?" 

At  this  the  eagle  came  down  and  sat  upon 
Gwydion's  knee.  And  Gwydion  struck  him  with 
his  magic  wand,  so  that  he  returned  to  his  own 
form,  and  behold  it  was  Llew  Llaw  Gyffes.  No 
one  ever  saw  a  more  piteous  sight,  for  he  was  noth- 
ing but  skin  and  bone. 

Then  he  arose  and  went  unto  Caer  Dathyl,  and 
there  were  brought  unto  him  good  physicians  that 
were  in  Gwynedd,  and  before  the  end  of  the  year 
he  was  quite  healed. 

"Lord,"  said  he  unto  Math,  the  son  of  Ma- 
thonwy,  "it  is  full  time  now  that  I  have  retribution 
of  him  by  whom  I  have  suffered  all  this  woe." 

"Truly,"  said  Math,  "he  will  never  be  able  to 
maintain  himself  in  the  possession  of  that  which  is 
thy  right." 

302 


Jftom  tbe  fl&abinoafon 

"Well,"  said  Llew,  "the  sooner  I  have  my  right, 
the  better  shall  I  be  pleased." 

Then  they  called  together  the  whole  of  Gwyn- 
edd,  and  set  forth  to  Ardudwy.  And  Gwydion 
went  on  before,  and  proceeded  to  Mur  y  Castell. 
And  when  Blodeuwedd  heard  that  he  was  coming, 
she  was  afraid  and  she  took  her  maidens  with  her, 
and  fled  to  the  mountain.  And  they  passed 
through  the  River  Cynvael,  and  went  towards  a 
court  that  there  was  upon  the  mountain;  and 
through  fear  they  could  not  proceed  except  with 
their  faces  looking  backwards,  so  that  unawares 
they  fell  into  the  lake.  And  they  were  all  drowned 
except  Blodeuwedd  herself;  and  her  Gwydion  over- 
took. 

And  Gwydion  said  unto  her,  "I  will  not  slay 
thee;  but  I  will  do  unto  thee  worse  than  that;  for 
I  will  turn  thee  into  a  bird.  And  because  of  the 
shame  thou  hast  done  unto  Llew  Llaw  Gyffes,thou 
shalt  never  show  thy  face  in  the  light  of  day  hence- 
forth ;  and  that  through  fear  of  all  the  other  birds. 
For  it  shall  be  their  nature  to  attack  thee,  and  to 
chase  thee  from  wheresoever  they  may  find  thee. 
And  thou  shalt  not  lose  thy  name,  but  shalt  be 
always  called  Blodeuwedd." 

Now  Blodeuwedd  is  the  name  of  an  owl  in  the 
language  of  this  present  time;  and  for  this  reason 
is  the  owl  hateful  unto  all  birds. 

Then  Gronw  Pebyr  withdrew  unto  Penllyn,  and 
he  despatched  thence  an  embassy.  And  the  mes- 

3°3 


IKRonfcer  Stories 

sengers  he  sent  asked  Llew  Llaw  Gyffes  if  he 
would  take  land,  or  domain,  or  gold,  or  silver,  for 
the  injury  he  had  received. 

"I  will  not,  by  my  confession  to  Heaven,"  said 
he.  "Behold  this  is  the  least  that  I  will  accept 
from  him :  that  he  come  to  the  spot  where  I  was 
when  he  wounded  me  with  the  dart,  and  that  I 
stand  where  he  did,  and  that  with  a  dart  I  take  my 
aim  at  him.  And  this  is  the  very  least  that  I  will 
accept." 

When  this  was  told  unto  Gronw  Pebyr,  he  said, 
"Verily,  is  it  needful  for  me  to  do  thus  ?  My  faith- 
ful warriors,  and  my  household,  and  my  foster- 
brothers,  is  there  riot  one  among  you  who  will 
stand  the  blow  in  my  stead?" 

"There  is  not  verily,"  answered  they.  And  be- 
cause of  their  refusal  to  suffer  one  stroke  for  their 
lord,  they  are  called  the  third  disloyal  tribe  even 
unto  this  day. 

"Well,"  said  he,  "I  will  meet  it." 

Then  they  two  went  forth  to  the  banks  of  the 
River  Cynvael;  and  Gronw  stood  in  the  place 
where  Llew  Llaw  Gyffes  was  when  he  struck  him, 
and  Llew  in  the  place  where  Gronw  was.  Then 
said  Gronw  Pebyr  unto  Llew,  "Since  it  was 
through  the  wiles  of  a  woman  that  I  did  unto  thee 
as  I  have  done,  I  adjure  thee  by  Heaven  to  let  me 
place  between  me  and  the  blow  the  slab  thou  seest 
yonder  on  the  river's  bank." 

"Verily,"  said  Llew,  "I  will  not  refuse  thee  this." 

304 


Jftom  tbe  n&abinoaion 

"Ah,"  said  he,  "may  Heaven  reward  thee  for  this 
favor. 

So  Gronw  took  the  slab,  and  placed  it  between 
him  and  the  blow. 

Then  Llew  flung  the  dart  at  him,  and  it  pierced 
the  slab,  and  went  through  Gronw  likewise,  so  that 
it  pierced  through  his  back.  And  thus  was  Gronw 
Pebyr  slain.  And  there,  it  is  said,  may  still  be 
seen  the  slab  on  the  bank  of  the  River  Cynvael  in 
Ardudwy,  having  the  hole  through  it.  And  there- 
fore is  it  even  now  called  Llech  Gronw. 

Then  a  second  time  did  Llew  Llaw  Gyffes  take 
possession  of  the  land,  and  prosperously  did  he 
govern  it.  And,  as  the  story  relates,  he  was  lord 
after  this  over  Gwynedd  as  long  as  he  lived. 

This  story  in  the  original  is  called  "Math  the  Son  of 
Mathonwy."  It  is  a  genuine  wondertale  of  the  kind  so 
popular  with  the  early  Welsh  people.  It  shows  a  delicate 
fancy,  the  transforming  of  flowers  Into  a  woman,  but  it 
seems  a  little  surprising  that  they  did  not  give  to  a  woman 
with  so  sweet  an  origin  a  sweeter  and  lovelier  nature. 

Qwydion  was  a  favorite  of  the  Welsh  poets.  He  was 
a  famous  enchanter  and  learnt  the  magic  arts  from  Math, 
who  excelled  all  the  enchanters  of  Welsh  fiction  except, 
perhaps,  the  mighty  Merlin  and  his  own  pupil  Gwydion. 
The  story  of  Blodeuwedd,  "the  fair  Flower-aspect,"  has 
also  been  a  popular  theme  with  the  poets.  The  story 
here  given  is  largely  abridged  from  the  original,  the  por- 
tion omitted  being  of  less  Interest  than  that  which  is 
given. 


305 


N  the  days  of  King  Arthur,  Madawc,  the 
son  of  Maredudd,  ruled  Powys,  from 
Porfoed  to  Gwauan  in  Arwystli.  And 
at  that  time  he  had  a  brother  lorwerth.  Now 
lorwerth  had  great  sorrow  and  heaviness  because 
of  the  honor  and  power  that  his  brother  enjoyed, 
and  which  he  shared  not.  So  he  sought  his  fellows 
and  his  foster-brothers,  and  took  counsel  with 
them  what  he  should  do  in  this  matter.  And  they 
resolved  to  despatch  some  of  their  number  to  go 
and  seek  a  maintenance  for  him.  Then  Madawc 
offered  him  to  become  master  of  the  household, 
and  to  have  horses  and  arms  and  honor,  and  to 
fare  like  as  himself.  But  this  lorwerth  refused. 

And  upon  a  time  lorwerth  made  an  inroad  into 
Loegria,  slaying  the  inhabitants,  burning  their 
houses,  and  carrying  them  away  as  prisoners. 
Then  Madawc  took  counsel  with  the  men  of 
Powys,  and  they  determined  to  place  an  hundred 
men  in  each  of  the  three  Commots  of  Powys  to 

306 


fftom  tbe  n&abinogion 

seek  for  him.  And  they  spread  these  men  over  the 
plains  as  far  as  Nillystwn  Trevan. 

Now  one  of  the  men  who  was  upon  this  quest 
was  called  Rhonabwy.  And  Rhonabwy  and  Kyn- 
wrig  Vrychgoch,  a  man  of  Mawddwy,  and 
Cadwgan  Vras,  a  man  of  Moelvre  in  Kynlleith, 
came  together  to  the  house  of  Heilyn  Goch.  And 
when  they  came  near  to  the  house,  they  saw  an  old 
hall,  whence  issued  a  great  smoke;  and  on  enter- 
ing, they  found  the  floor  full  of  puddles  and 
mounds;  and  it  was  difficult  to  stand  thereon,  so 
slippery  was  it  with  the  mire  of  cattle.  These  pud- 
dles were  so  deep  that  a  man  might  go  up  to  his 
ankles  in  water  and  dirt.  And  there  were  boughs 
of  holly  spread  over  the  floor,  from  which  the  cat- 
tle had  browsed  the  sprigs. 

When  they  came  to  the  hall  of  the  house,  they 
beheld  cells  full  of  dust,  and  very  gloomy,  and  on 
one  side  of  the  hall  an  old  hag  making  a  fire.  And 
whenever  she  felt  cold,  she  cast  a  lapful  of  chaff 
upon  the  fire,  and  raised  such  a  smoke,  that  it  was 
scarcely  to  be  borne  as  it  rose  up  the  nostrils.  On 
the  other  side  was  a  yellow  calf-skin  on  the  floor; 
and  a  main  privilege  was  it  to  any  one  who  should 
get  upon  that  hide. 

When  they  had  sat  down,  they  asked  the  hag 
where  were  the  people  of  the  house.  But  the  hag 
spoke  not  a  word,  and  only  muttered.  Thereupon 
the  people  of  the  house  entered, — a  ruddy,  clown- 
ish, curly-headed  man,  with  a  burthen  of  fagots  on 

307 


Wlon&er  Stories 

his  back,  and  a  pale,  slender  woman,  also  carrying 
a  bundle  under  her  arm.  They  barely  looked  at 
the  men,  and  then  kindled  a  fire  with  the  boughs. 
And  the  woman  cooked  something,  and  gave  them 
to  eat, — barley  bread,  and  cheese,  and  milk  and 
water. 

Soon  there  arose  a  storm  of  wind  and  rain,  so 
that  it  was  hardly  possible  to  go  forth  with  safety; 
and  being  weary  with  their  journey,  they  laid 
themselves  down,  and  sought  to  sleep.  When 
they  looked  at  the  couch,  it  seemed  to  be  made 
out  of  a  little  coarse  straw  full  of  dust,  with  the 
stems  of  boughs  sticking  up  through;  for  the  cat- 
tle had  eaten  all  the  straw  that  was  placed  at  the 
head  and  the  foot.  And  upon  the  bed  was 
stretched  an  old  russet-colored  rug,  threadbare 
and  ragged;  and  a  coarse  sheet,  full  of  slits,  was 
upon  the  rug;  and  an  ill-stuffed  pillow,  and  a  worn- 
out  cover  upon  the  sheet.  After  much  suffering 
from  the  discomfort  of  their  couch,  a  heavy  sleep 
fell  on  Rhonabwy's  companions;  but  Rhonabwy, 
not  being  able  either  to  sleep  or  to  rest,  thought 
he  should  suffer  less  if  he  went  to  lie  upon  the  yel- 
low calf-skin  that  was  stretched  out  on  the  floor. 
And  there  he  slept. 

As  soon  as  sleep  had  come  upon  his  eyes,  it 
seemed  to  him  that  he  was  journeying  with  his 
companions  across  a  great  plain,  and  he  thought 
that  he  went  towards  Rhyd  y  Groes  on  the  Severn. 
As  he  journeyed,  he  heard  a  mighty  noise,  the  like 

308 


front  tbe  flDabinogion 

whereof  he  had  never  heard  before;  and  looking 
behind  him,  he  beheld  a  youth  with  yellow  curling 
hair,  and  with  his  beard  newly  trimmed,  mounted 
on  a  chestnut  horse,  whereof  the  legs  were  gray 
from  the  top  of  the  forelegs,  and  from  the  bend  of 
the  hindlegs  downwards.  The  rider  wore  a  coat 
of  yellow  satin  sewn  with  green  silk;  and  on  his 
thigh  was  a  gold-hilted  sword,  with  a  scabbard  of 
new  leather  of  Cordova,  belted  with  the  skin  of  the 
deer,  and  clasped  with  gold.  And  over  this  was  a 
scarf  of  yellow  satin  wrought  with  green  silk,  the 
borders  of  which  were  likewise  green.  The  green 
of  the  caparison  of  the  horse  and  of  his  rider  was 
as  green  as  the  leaves  of  the  fir-tree,  and  the  yellow 
was  as  yellow  as  the  blossom  of  the  broom.  So 
fierce  was  the  aspect  of  the  knight,  that  fear  seized 
upon  them,  and  they  began  to  flee;  and  the  knight 
pursued  them.  And  so  it  was  that  when  the  horse 
breathed  forth,  the  men  became  distant  from  him, 
and  when  he  drew  in  his  breath,  they  were  drawn 
near  to  him,  even  to  the  horse's  chest.  When  he 
had  overtaken  them,  they  besought  his  mercy. 

"You  have  it  gladly,"  said  the  knight;  "fear 
nought." 

"Ha,  chieftain !  since  thou  hast  mercy  upon  me, 
tell  me  also  who  thou  art,"  said  Rhonabwy. 

"I  will  not  conceal  my  lineage  from  thee,"  he  re- 
plied. "I  am  Iddawc  the  son  of  Mynyo;  yet  not 
by  my  name,  but  by  my  nickname,  am  I  best 
known." 

309 


Monger  Stories 

"And  wilt  thou  tell  us  what  thy  nickname  is  ?" 

"I  will  tell  you,"  he  replied.  "It  is  Iddawc  Cordd 
Prydain." 

"Ha,  chieftain!"  said  Rhonabwy.  "Why  art 
thou  called  thus?" 

"I  will  tell  thee  that  also.  1  was  one  of  the  mes- 
sengers between  Arthur  and  Medrawd  his  nephew, 
at  the  battle  of  Camlan;  and  I  was  then  a  reckless 
youth,  and  through  my  desire  for  battle  I  kindled 
strife  between  them,  and  stirred  up  wrath  when 
I  was  sent  by  King  Arthur  to  reason  with  Me- 
drawd, and  to  show  him  that  he  was  his  foster- 
father  and  his  uncle,  and  to  seek  for  peace,  lest  the 
sons  of  the  Kings  of  the  Island  of  Britain  and  of 
the  nobles  should  be  slain.  And  though  King  Ar- 
thur charged  me  with  the  fairest  sayings  he  could 
think  of,  I  uttered  unto  Medrawd  the  harshest  I 
could  devise.  For  this  reason  I  am  called  Iddawc 
Cordd  Prydain,  for  from  this  did  the  battle  of  Cam- 
lan ensue.  And  three  nights  before  the  end  of  the 
battle  of  Camlan  I  left  them,  and  went  to  the  Llech 
Las  in  North  Britain  to  do  penance;  and  there  I  re- 
mained doing  penance  seven  years,  and  after  that 
I  gained  pardon." 

Then  they  journeyed  over  the  plain  as  far  as 
the  ford  of  Rhyd  y  Groes  on  the  Severn.  And  for 
a  mile  around  the  ford  on  both  sides  ^f  th~  road 
they  saw  tents  and  encampments,  zn<\  heard  the 
clamor  of  a  mighty  host.  As  thev  came  to  the 
edge  of  the  ford,  they  beheld  King  Arthur,  sitting 

310 


from  tbc  flDabinooion 

on  a  flat  island  below  the  ford,  having  Bedwini  the 
bishop  on  one  side  of  him,  and  Gwarthegyd  the  son 
of  Kaw  on  the  other.  And  a  tall,  auburn-haired 
youth  stood  before  him,  with  his  sheathed  sword 
in  his  hand,  and  clad  in  a  coat  and  cap  of  jet-black 
satin.  His  face  was  white  as  ivory,  his  eyebrows 
black  as  jet,  and  such  part  of  his  wrist  as  could  be 
seen  between  his  glove  and  his  sleeve  was  whiter 
than  the  lily,  and  thicker  than  a  warrior's  ankle. 

Then  they  beheld  another  troop  coming  towards 
the  ford;  and  these  from  their  horses'  chests  up- 
wards were  whiter  than  the  lily,  and  below  blacker 
than  jet.  And  they  saw  one  of  these  knights  go  be- 
fore the  rest,  and  spur  his  horse  into  the  ford  in 
such  a  manner  that  the  water  dashed  over  Arthur 
and  the  bishop  and  those  holding  counsel  with 
them,  so  that  they  were  as  wet  as  if  they  had  been 
drenched  in  the  river.  As  he  turned  the  head  of 
his  horse,  the  youth  who  stood  before  King  Ar- 
thur struck  the  horse  over  the  nostrils  with  his 
sheathed  sword,  so  that,  had  it  been  with  the  bare 
blade,  it  would  have  been  a  marvel  if  the  bone  had 
not  been  wounded  as  well  as  the  flesh. 

Then  the  knight  drew  his  sword  half  out  of  the 
scabbard,  and  asked  of  him,  "Wherefore  didst  thou 
strike  my  horse?  Whether  was  it  in  insult,  or  in 
counsel  unto  me?" 

"Thou  dost  indeed  lack  counsel.  What  madness 
caused  thee  to  ride  so  furiously  as  to  dash  the 
water  of  the  ford  over  Arthur  and  the  consecrated 

3" 


DdonOer  Stories 

bishop  and  their  counsellors,  so  that  they  were 
as  wet  as  if  they  had  been  dragged  out  of  the 
river?" 

"As  counsel,  then,  will  I  take  it,"  said  the  knight. 
So  he  turned  his  horse's  head  round  towards  his 
army. 

"Iddawc,"  said  Rhonabwy,  "who  was  yonder 
knight?" 

"The  most  eloquent  and  the  wisest  youth  that 
is  in  this  island, — Adaon,  the  son  of  Taliesin." 

"Who  was  the  man  that  struck  his  horse  ?" 

"A  youth  of  froward  nature, — Elphin,  the  son  of 
Gwyddno." 

Then  Iddawc  took  Rhonabwy  behind  him  on  his 
horse,  and  that  mighty  host  moved  forward,  each 
troop  in  its  order,  towards  Cevndigoll.  When 
they  came  to  the  middle  of  the  ford  of  the  Severn, 
Iddawc  turned  his  horse's  head,  and  Rhonabwy 
looked  along  the  valley  of  the  Severn.  And  he 
beheld  two  fair  troops  coming  towards  the  ford; 
one  troop  of  brilliant  white,  whereof  every  one  of 
the  men  had  a  scarf  of  white  satin  with  jet-black 
borders.  And  the  knees  and  the  tops  of  the 
shoulders  of  their  horses  were  jet-black,  though 
they  were  of  a  pure  white  in  every  other  part.  And 
their  banners  were  pure  white,  with  black  points 
to  them  all. 

"Iddawc,"  said  Rhonabwy,  "who  are  yonder 
pure  white  troop?" 

"They  are  the  men  of  Norway;  and  March,  the 

312 


ffrom  tbe 

son  of  Meirchion,  is  their  prince.  And  he  is  cousin 
unto  King  Arthur." 

And  further  on  he  saw  a  troop  whereof  each 
man  wore  garments  of  jet-black,  with  borders  of 
pure  white  to  every  scarf;  and  the  tops  of  the 
shoulders  and  the  knees  of  their  horses  were  pure 
white.  And  their  banners  were  jet-black  with  pure 
white  at  the  point  of  each. 

"Iddawc,"  said  Rhonabwy,  "who  are  the  jet- 
black  troop  yonder?" 

"They  are  the  men  of  Denmark;  and  Edeyrn, 
the  son  of  Nudd,  is  their  prince." 

When  they  had  overtaken  the  host,  King  Ar- 
thur and  his  army  dismounted  below  Caer  Badou, 
and  he  perceived  that  he  and  Iddawc  journeyed 
the  same  road  as  the  King.  After  they  had  dis- 
mounted, he  heard  a  great  tumult  and  confusion 
amongst  the  host;  and  such  as  were  then  at  the 
flanks  turned  to  the  centre,  and  such  as  had  been 
in  the  centre  moved  to  the  flanks.  Then,  behold, 
he  saw  a  knight  coming,  clad,  both  he  and  his 
horse,  in  mail,  of  which  the  rings  were  whiter  than 
the  whitest  lily,  and  the  rivets  redder  than  the 
ruddiest  blood.  And  he  rode  amongst  the  host. 

Thereupon  they  heard  a  call  made  for  Kadwr, 
Earl  of  Cornwall;  and  behold  he  arose,  with  the 
sword  of  Arthur  in  his  hand.  And  upon  the  sword 
were  the  figures  of  two  serpents  in  gold.  And 
when  the  sword  was  drawn  from  its  scabbard,  two 
flames  of  fire  seemed  to  burst  forth  from  the  jaws 

313 


TOonfcer  Stories 

of  the  serpents,  and  so  wonderful  was  the  sword 
that  it  was  hard  for  any  one  to  look  upon  it.  At 
the  sight  the  host  became  still,  and  the  tumult 
ceased,  and  the  earl  returned  to  the  tent. 

"Iddawc,"  said  Rhonabwy,  "who  is  the  man  who 
bore  the  sword  of  Arthur  ?" 

"Kadwr,  the  Earl  of  Cornwall,"  he  replied, 
"whose  duty  it  is  to  arm  the  King  on  the  days  of 
battle." 

Then  they  heard  a  call  made  for  Eirynwych  Am- 
heibyn,  Arthur's  servant,  a  red,  rough,  ill-favored 
man,  having  red  whiskers  with  bristly  hairs.  And 
behold  he  came  upon  a  tall  red  horse,  with  the 
mane  parted  on  each  side,  and  on  the  horse's  back 
a  large  and  beautiful  sumter  pack.  And  the  youth 
dismounted  before  King  Arthur,  and  then  drew  a 
golden  chair  out  of  the  pack,  and  a  carpet  of 
diapered  satin.  He  spread  the  carpet  before  the 
King,  and  there  was  an  apple  of  ruddy  gold  at 
each  corner  thereof,  anil  he  placed  the  chair  upon 
the  carpet.  And  so  large  was  the  chair,  that  three 
armed  warriors  might  have  sat  therein.  The  name 
of  the  carpet  was  Gwenn;  and  it  was  one  of  its 
properties  that  whoever  was  upon  it  no  one  could 
see  him,  yet  he  could  see  every  one. 

And  Arthur  sat  within  the  carpet,  and  Owain 
the  son  of  Urien  was  standing  before  him. 
"Owain,"  said  Arthur,  "wilt  thou  play  chess?" 

"I  will,  lord,"  replied  Owain. 

So  the  red  youth  brought  the  chess  for  Arthur 


Jftom  tbc  flDabinofiton 

and  Owain;  golden  pieces  and  a  board  of  silver. 
And  they  began  to  play. 

Now  while  they  were  thus  playing,  and  when 
they  were  best  amused  with  their  game,  behold 
they  saw  a  white  tent  with  a  red  canopy,  and  the 
figure  of  a  jet-black  serpent  on  the  top  of  the  tent, 
and  red  glaring  venomous  eyes  in  the  head  of  the 
serpent,  and  a  red  flaming  tongue.  And  there 
came  a  young  page  with  yellow  curling  hair,  and 
blue  eyes,  and  a  newly-springing  beard,  wearing  a 
coat  and  a  surcoat  of  yellow  satin,  and  hose  of  thin 
greenish-yellow  cloth  upon  his  feet,  and  over  his 
hose  were  shoes  of  parti-colored  leather,  fastened 
at  the  insteps  with  golden  clasps.  And  he  bore 
a  heavy  three-edged  sword  with  a  golden  hilt,  in 
a  scabbard  of  black  leather  tipped  with  fine  gold. 
And  he  came  to  the  place  where  the  emperor  and 
Owain  were  playing  at  chess. 

The  youth  saluted  Owain;  and  Owain  marvelled 
that  the  youth  should  salute  him,  and  should  not 
have  saluted  King  Arthur.  Now  Arthur  knew 
what  was  in  Owain's  thought,  and  he  said  to 
Owain,  "Marvel  not  that  the  youth  salutes  thee 
now,  for  he  saluted  me  erewhile;  and  it  is  unto  thee 
that  his  errand  is." 

Then  said  the  youth  unto  Owain,  "Lord,  is  it 
with  thy  leave  that  the  young  pages  and  attend- 
ants of  the  King  harass  and  torment  and  worry 
thy  ravens?  If  it  be  not  with  thy  leave,  cause  the 
King  to  forbid  them." 

315 


TOonfcer  Stories 

"Lord,"  said  Owain,  "thou  hearest  what  the 
youth  says:  if  it  seem  good  to  thee,  forbid  them 
from  my  ravens." 

"Play  thy  game,"  said  the  King.  Then  the 
youth  returned  to  the  tent. 

That  game  they  finished,  and  another  one  they 
began,  and,  when  they  were  in  the  midst  of  the 
game,  behold,  a  ruddy  young  man  with  auburn 
curling  hair  and  large  eyes,  well-grown,  and  hav- 
ing his  beard  new-shorn,  came  forth  from  a  bright 
yellow  tent  upon  the  summit  of  which  was  the  fig- 
ure of  a  bright  red  lion.  He  was  clad  in  a  coat  of 
yellow  satin,  falling  as  low  as  the  small  of  his  leg, 
and  embroidered  with  threads  of  red  silk.  On  his 
feet  were  hose  of  fine  white  buckram;  and  buskins 
of  black  leather  were  over  his  hose,  whereon  were 
golden  clasps.  In  his  hand  was  a  huge,  heavy, 
three-edged  sword,  with  a  scabbard  of  red  deer- 
hide,  tipped  with  gold. 

As  he  came  to  the  place  where  Arthur  and 
Owain  were  playing  at  chess,  he  saluted  Owain. 
And  Owain  was  again  troubled  at  his  salutation; 
but  Arthur  minded  it  no  more  than  before.  Then 
the  youth  said  unto  Owain,  "Is  it  not  against  thy 
will  that  the  attendants  of  the  King  harass  thy  rav- 
ens, killing  some,  and  worrying  others?  If  it  be 
against  thy  will,  beseech  him  to  forbid  them." 

"Lord,"  said  Owain  to  King  Arthur,  "forbid 
thy  men,  if  it  seem  good  to  thee." 

316 


ffrom  tbe 

"Play  thy  game,"  said  the  King.  And  the  youtK 
returned  to  the  tent. 

Soon  that  game  was  ended,  and  another  one  be- 
gun. As  they  were  beginning  the  first  move  of 
the  game,  they  beheld  at  a  small  distance  from 
them  a  tent  speckled  with  yellow,  and  with  the  fig- 
ure of  an  eagle  of  gold  upon  it,  and  a  precious 
stone  on  the  eagle's  head.  And  coming  out  of  the 
tent  they  saw  a  youth  with  thick  yellow  hair  upon 
his  head,  fair  and  comely,  and  a  scarf  of  blue  satin 
upon  him,  and  a  brooch  of  gold  in  the  scarf  upon 
his  right  shoulder  as  large  as  a  warrior's  middle 
finger.  Upon  his  feet  were  hose  of  fine  Totness, 
and  shoes  of  parti-colored  leather,  clasped  with 
gold;  and  the  youth  was  of  noble  bearing,  fair  of 
face,  with  ruddy  cheeks  and  large  hawk's  eyes.  In 
the  hand  of  the  youth  was  a  large  lance,  speckled 
yellow,  with  a  newly  sharpened  head;  and  upon 
the  lance  a  banner  was  displayed. 

Fiercely  angry,  and  with  rapid  pace,  the  youth 
came  to  the  place  where  King  Arthur  was  playing 
at  chess  with  Owain.  Thereupon  he  saluted 
Owain,  and  told  him  that  his  ravens  had  been 
killed,  the  chief  part  of  them,  and  that  such  of  them 
as  were  not  slain  were  so  wounded  and  bruised, 
that  not  one  of  them  could  raise  its  wings  a  single 
fathom  above  the  earth. 

"Lord,"  said  Owain  to  the  King,  "forbid  thy 
men." 

"Play,"  said  the  King,  "if  it  please  thee." 

317 


Member  Stories 

Then  Owain  said  to  the  youth,  "Go  back,  and 
wherever  thou  findest  the  strife  at  the  thickest, 
there  lift  up  the  banner,  and  let  come  what  Heaven 
pleases." 

So  the  youth  returned  to  the  place  where  the 
strife  bore  hardest  upon  the  ravens,  and  he  lifted 
up  the  banner;  and  as  he  did  so  they  all  rose  up  in 
the  air,  fierce  and  wrathful,  clapping  their  wings 
in  the  wind,  and  shaking  off  the  weariness  that 
was  upon  them.  And  recovering  their  energy  and 
courage,  furiously  and  with  exultation  did  they, 
with  one  sweep,  descend  upon  the  heads  of  the 
men  who  had  erewhile  caused  them  anger  and  pain 
and  damage;  and  they  seized  some  by  the  heads 
and  others  by  the  eyes,  and  some  by  the  ears  and 
others  by  the  arms,  and  carried  them  up  into  the 
air;  and  in  the  air  there  was  a  mighty  tumult  with 
the  flapping  of  the  wings  of  the  triumphant  ravens, 
and  with  their  croaking;  and  there  was  another 
mighty  tumult  with  the  groaning  of  the  men  that 
were  being  torn  and  wounded,  and  some  of  whom 
were  slain. 

King  Arthur  and  Owain  marvelled  at  the  tumult 
as  they  played  at  chess;  and,  looking,  they  per- 
ceived a  knight  upon  a  dun-colored  horse  com- 
ing towards  them.  And  marvelous  was  the  hue 
of  the  horse.  His  right  shoulder  was  bright  red, 
and  from  the  top  of  his  legs  to  the  centre  of  his 
hoof  was  bright  yellow;  and  both  the  knight  and 
his  horse  were  fully  equipped  with  heavy  foreign 

318 


jftom  tbe  fl&aMnoaion 

armor.  The  clothing  of  the  horse  from  the  front 
opening  upwards  was  of  bright  yellow  sendal.  A 
large  gold-hilted  one-edged  sword  had  the  youth 
upon  his  thigh,  in  a  scabbard  of  light-blue,  tipped 
with  Spanish  laton.  The  belt  of  the  sword  was  of 
dark-green  leather  with  golden  slides,  and  a  clasp 
of  ivory  upon  it,  and  a  buckle  of  jet-black  upon 
the  clasp.  A  helmet  of  gold  was  on  the  head  of 
the  knight,  set  with  precious  stones  of  great  vir- 
tue; and  at  the  top  of  the  helmet  was  the  image  of 
a  flame-colored  leopard  with  two  ruby-red  stones 
in  its  head,  so  that  it  was  astounding  for  a  warrior, 
however  stout  his  heart,  to  look  at  the  face  of  the 
leopard,  much  more  at  the  face  of  the  knight.  He 
had  in  his  hand  a  blue-shafted  lance;  but  from  the 
haft  to  the  point  it  was  stained  crimson-red  with 
the  blood  of  the  ravens  and  their  plumage. 

The  knight  came  to  the  place  where  Arthur  and 
Owain  were  seated  at  chess;  and  they  saw  that  he 
was  harassed  and  vexed  and  weary  as  he  came 
towards  them.  The  youth  saluted  King  Arthur, 
and  told  him  that  the  ravens  of  Owain  were  slay- 
ing his  young  men  and  attendants.  And  King  Ar- 
thur looked  at  Owain  and  said,  "Forbid  thy  rav- 
ens." 

"Lord,"  answered  Owain,  "play  thy  game." 
And  they  played.  And  the  knight  returned  back 
towards  the  strife,  and  the  ravens  were  not  for- 
bidden any  more  than  before. 

And  when  they  had  played  a  while,  they  heard 


"Cdonfcer  Stories 

a  mighty  tumult,  and  a  wailing  of  men,  and  a 
croaking  of  ravens,  as  they  carried  the  men  in 
their  strength  into  the  air,  and,  tearing  them  be- 
twixt them,  let  them  fall  piecemeal  to  the  earth. 
And  during  the  tumult  they  saw  a  knight  coming 
towards  them,  on  a  light-gray  horse,  and  the  left 
foreleg  of  the  horse  was  jet-black  to  the  centre 
of  his  hoof.  And  the  knight  and  the  horse  were 
fully  accoutred  with  huge  heavy  blue  armor;  and 
a  robe  of  honor  of  yellow  diapered  satin  was  upon 
the  knight,  and  the  borders  of  the  robe  were  blue. 
And  the  housings  of  the  horse  were  jet-black,  with 
borders  of  bright  yellow.  And  on  the  thigh  of 
the  youth  was  a  sword,  long  and  three-edged  and 
heavy.  And  the  scabbard  was  of  red  cut  leather, 
and  the  belt  of  new  red  deerskin,  having  upon  it 
many  golden  slides,  and  a  buckle  of  the  bone  of 
the  sea-horse,  the  tongue  of  which  was  jet-black. 
A  golden  helmet  was  upon  the  head  of  the  knight, 
wherein  were  set  sapphire-stones  of  great  virtue; 
and  at  the  top  of  the  helmet  was  the  figure  of  a 
flame-colored  lion,  with  a  fiery-red  tongue,  issuing 
above  a  foot  from  his  mouth,  and  with  venomous 
eyes,  crimson-red,  in  his  head. 

And  the  knight  came,  bearing  in  his  hand  a 
thick  ashen  lance,  the  head  whereof,  which  had 
been  newly  steeped  in  blood,  was  overlaid  with  sil- 
ver. And  the  youth  saluted  the  King,  saying, 
"Lord,  carest  thou  not  for  the  slaying  of  thy  pages, 
and  thy  young  men,  and  the  sons  of  the  nobles  of 

320 


Jtom  tbe  HDamnogion 

the  Island  of  Britain,  whereby  it  will  be  difficult 
to  defend  this  island  from  henceforward  forever?" 

"Owain,"  said  King  Arthur,  "forbid  thy  rav- 
ens." 

"Play  thy  game,  lord,"  Owain  replied. 

So  they  finished  the  game,  and  began  another; 
and  as  they  were  finishing  that  game,  lo,  they 
heard  a  great  tumult,  and  a  clamor  of  armed  men, 
and  a  croaking  of  ravens,  and  a  flapping  of  wings 
in  the  air,  as  they  flung  down  the  armor  entire  to 
the  ground,  and  the  men  and  the  horses  piecemeal. 

Then  they  saw  coming  towards  them  a  knight 
on  a  lofty-headed  piebald  horse.  The  left  shoulder 
of  the  horse  was  of  bright  red,  and  its  right  leg, 
from  the  chest  to  the  hollow  of  the  hoof,  was  pure 
white.  And  the  knight  and  horse  were  equipped 
with  arms  of  speckled  yellow,  variegated  with 
Spanish  laton ;  and  there  was  a  robe  of  honor  upon 
him  and  upon  his  horse,  divided  in  two  parts,  white 
and  black;  and  the  borders  of  the  robe  of  honor 
were  of  golden  purple.  And  above  the  robe  he 
wore  a  sword,  three-edged  and  bright,  with  a 
golden  hilt;  and  the  belt  of  the  sword  was  of  yel- 
low goldwork,  having  a  clasp  upon  it  of  the  eyelid 
of  a  black  sea-horse,  and  a  tongue  of  yellow  gold 
to  the  clasp.  Upon  the  head  of  the  knight  was  a 
bright  helmet  of  yellow  laton,  with  sparkling 
stones  of  crystal  in  it,  and  at  the  crest  of  the  helmet 
was  the  figure  of  a  griffin,  with  a  stone  of  many 
virtues  in  its  head.  And  he  had  an  ashen  spear 

321 


"Cdonfcer  Stories 

in  his  hand,  with  a  round  shaft,  colored  with  azure- 
blue.  And  the  head  of  the  spear  was  newly  stained 
with  blood,  and  was  overlaid  with  fine  silver. 

In  great  wrath  came  the  knight  to  the  place 
where  King  Arthur  was;  and  he  told  him  that  the 
ravens  had  slain  his  household,  and  the  sons  of 
the  chief  men  of  his  island,  and  he  besought  him 
to  cause  Owain  to  forbid  his  ravens.  Then  King 
Arthur  besought  Owain  to  forbid  them;  and  he 
took  the  golden  chessmen  that  were  upon  the 
board,  and  crushed  them  until  they  became  as  dust. 
At  this  Owain  ordered  Gwres,  the  son  of  Rheged, 
to  lower  his  banner.  So  it  was  lowered,  and  all 
was  peace. 

Then  Rhonabwy  inquired  of  Iddawc  who  were 
the  first  three  men  that  came  to  Owain  to  tell  him 
his  ravens  were  being  slain. 

"They  were  men,"  said  Iddawc,  "who  grieved 
that  Owain  should  suffer  loss;  his  fellow-chieftains 
and  companions;"  and  he  gave  the  names  of  the 
men. 

"Who,"  said  Rhonabwy,  "were  the  last  three 
men  who  came  to  Arthur,  and  told  him  that  the 
ravens  were  slaughtering  his  men?" 

"The  best  of  men,"  said  Idawc,  "and  the  bravest, 
and  who  would  grieve  exceedingly  that  Arthur 
should  have  damage  in  aught;"  and  these  he  also 
named. 

And  with  that,  behold  four  and  twenty  knights 
came  from  Osla  Gyllellvawr  to  crave  a  truce  of  Ar- 

322 


jftom  tbe  fl&abittoston 

thur  for  a  fortnight  and  a  month.  And  King  Ar- 
thur arose  and  went  to  take  counsel  with  them. 
And  he  came  to  where  a  tall  auburn,  curly-headed 
man  was  a  little  way  off,  and  there  he  assembled 
his  counsellors, — all  the  wise  men  of  his  kingdom. 

"Iddawc,"  inquired  Rhonabwy,  "who  was  the 
auburn-haired  man  to  whom  they  came  just  now?" 

"Rhun  the  son  of  Maelgwn  Gwynedd,  a  man 
whose  prerogative  it  is  that  he  may  join  in  counsel 
with  all." 

"And  wherefore  did  they  admit  into  counsel  with 
men  of  such  dignity,  a  stripling  so  young  as  Kady- 
riaith  the  son  of  Saidi?" 

"Because  there  is  not  throughout  Britain  a  man 
better  skilled  in  counsel  than  he." 

Thereupon,  behold,  bards  came  and  recited 
verses  before  Arthur,  and  no  man  understood 
those  verses  but  Kadyriaith  only,  save  that  they 
were  in  King  Arthur's  praise. 

Then  there  came  four  and  twenty  asses,  with 
their  burdens  of  gold  and  of  silver,  and  a  tired, 
wayworn  man  with  each  of  them,  bringing  tribute 
to  Arthur  from  the  Islands  of  Greece.  Then 
Kadyriaith  the  son  of  Saidi  besought  that  a  truce 
might  be  granted  to  Osla  Gyllellvawr  for  the  space 
of  a  fortnight  and  a  month,  and  that  the  asses  and 
the  burdens  they  carried  might  be  given  to  the 
bards  as  the  reward  for  their  stay,  and  that  their 
verse  might  be  recompensed  during  the  time  of 
the  truce.  And  thus  it  was  settled. 

323 


Monger  Storie0 

"Rhonabwy,"  said  Iddawc,  "would  it  not  be 
wrong,  think  you,  to  forbid  a  youth  who  gave 
counsel  so  wise  as  this  from  coming  to  the  coun- 
cils of  his  lord  ?" 

Then  Sir  Kay  arose,  and  he  said,  "Whosoever 
will  follow  King  Arthur,  let  him  be  with  him  to- 
night in  Cornwall;  and  whosoever  will  not,  let  him 
be  opposed  to  the  King  even  during  the  truce." 

And  through  the  greatness  of  the  tumult  that 
ensued,  Rhonabwy  awoke.  And  when  he  awoke 
he  saw  that  he  was  upon  the  yellow  calf-skin,  hav- 
ing slept  three  nights  and  three  days. 

And  this  tale  is  called  the  Dream  of  Rhonabwy. 
And  this  is  the  reason  that  no  one  knows  the  dream 
without  a  book,  neither  bard  nor  gifted  seer,  be- 
cause of  the  various  colors  that  were  upon  the 
horses,  and  the  many  wondrous  colors  of  the  arms 
and  of  the  panoply,  and  of  the  precious  scarfs,  and 
of  the  virtue-bearing  stones. 

This  is  one  of  the  least  interesting  stories  of  the  series, 
but  it  contains  some  exquisite  word  painting  and  I  have 
included  it  mainly  for  the  charm  of  these  descriptions. 
The  reader  will  note  the  sense  of  color  and  of  rich  orna- 
mentation in  the  various  descriptions,  showing  the  taste 
of  the  early  Welsh  people  for  bright  coloring,  costly 
ornaments,  and  display  in  dress. 


324 


STlje  £>to*p  of  Salicseti 

ANY  years  ago  King  Gwy'ddno  Garanhir 
was  sovereign  of  a  territory  bordering 
on  the  sea.  Upon  the  shore  of  the 
sea  near  to  his  castle  he  had  a  weir;  and  in  that 
weir  he  caught  as  many  fish  as  were  worth  an 
hundred  pounds  a  year.  It  was  the  custom  to  draw 
the  weir  every  May  evening  of  each  year. 

Now  King  Gwyddno  had  an  only  son  named  El- 
pin,  and  he  was  a  hapless  and  careless  youth,  and 
knew  not  how  to  supply  even  his  daily  needs.  This 
grieved  his  father  sorely,  for  he  thought  his  son 
must  have  been  born  in  an  evil  hour  and  would 
never  amount  to  anything.  By  the  advice  of  his 
council  his  father  granted  him  the  drawing  of  the 
weir  that  year  to  see  if  good  luck  would  ever  befall 
him,  and  also  to  give  him  the  chance  to  earn  some- 
thing wherewith  to  begin  the  world.  It  was  on 
the  last  day  of  April  that  this  was  decided. 

So  in  the  evening  Elpin  went  to  look  at  the  weir, 
and  behold  there  was  nothing  in  it  but  a  leathern 

325 


TOlonfcer  Stories 

bag  that  hung  upon  a  pole  of  the  weir.  Seeing 
this  the  river  warden  said  unto  Elpin,  "All  thy  ill- 
luck  aforetime  was  as  nothing  compared  with  this; 
for  now  I  fear  that  thou  hast  destroyed  the  virtues 
of  the  weir  which  always  yielded  the  value  of  an 
hundred  pounds  every  May  eve;  and  to-night  there 
is  nothing  in  it  but  this  leathern  bag." 

"Well,"  said  Elpin,  "there  may  be  the  value  of 
a  hundred  pounds  in  the  bag  for  all  you  know." 

So  they  took  up  the  leathern  bag,  and  he  who 
opened  it  saw  therein  the  forehead  of  an  infant 
child,  the  fairest  that  he  had  ever  seen.  As  he 
looked  upon  the  child  he  exclaimed  taliesin,  which 
is  the  Welsh  word  for  "Behold  a  radiant  brow." 

"Taliesin  shall  he  be  called,"  said  Elpin.  So 
saying  he  lifted  the  boy  in  his  arms,  and  lament- 
ing his  bad  luck,  placed  the  boy  before  him  on 
his  horse.  Then  he  made  his  horse  amble  gently 
and  thus  carried  the  infant  as  softly  as  if  it  had  been 
sitting  in  the  easiest  chair  in  the  world. 

And  as  they  rode  the  boy  spoke  and  sang  a  hymn 
of  praise  and  consolation  to  Elpin,  and  this  was 
the  song  which  he  sang : 

"Fair  Elpin,  cease  to  lament! 
Never  in  Gwyddno's  weir 
Was  there  such  good  luck  as  this  night. 
Being  too  sad  will  not  avail; 
Better  to  trust  in  God  than  to  forebode  ill; 
Weak  and  small  as  I  am 

326 


fftom  tbe  flDabinofiion 

On  the  foaming  beach  of  the  ocean 
In  the  days  of  trouble,  I  shall  be 
Of  more  service  to  thee  than  three  hundred 
salmon." 

This  was  the  first  poem  that  Taliesin  had  ever 
sung,  and  he  did  it  to  console  Elpin  in  his  grief  that 
the  produce  of  the  weir  was  lost,  and  what  was 
even  worse  than  that,  that  all  the  world  would  con- 
sider that  it  was  therefore  his  fault  and  ill-luck. 

Amazed  at  hearing  this,  Elpin  spoke  to  the  boy 
and  asked  him  whether  he  was  human  or  a  spirit. 
In  answer  to  this  question,  Taliesin  sang,  and  this 
is  the  song  that  he  sang: 

"I  have  been  formed  a  comely  person; 
Although  I  am  but  little,  I  am  highly  gifted; 
Into  a  dark  leathern  bag  was  I  thrown, 
And  on  a  boundless  sea  was  I  sent  adrift. 
From  seas  and  from  mountains 
God  brings  wealth  to  the  fortunate  man." 

Soon  Elpin  came  to  the  house  of  his  father, 
Gwyddno,  bringing  Taliesin  with  him.  His  father 
asked  him  whether  he  had  had  a  good  haul  of  fish 
in  the  weir,  to  which  Elpin  replied  that  he  had 
caught  that  which  was  better  than  fish. 

"What  is  that?"  his  father  asked. 

"A  bard,"  replied  Elpin. 

327 


"Cdonfcer  Stories 

"Alas!  what  will  a  bard  profit  thee?"  said  his 
father. 

To  which  Taliesin  himself  replied,  "He  will 
profit  him  more  than  the  weir  ever  profited  thee." 
Then  his  father,  Gwyddno,  turned  to  the  child  and 
said,  "Art  thou  able  to  speak,  and  thou  so  little?" 

And  Taliesin  answered  him,  "I  am  better  able  to 
speak  than  thou  art  to  question  me." 

"Let  me  hear  what  thou  canst  say,"  quoth 
Gwyddno. 

In  reply  to  this  Taliesin  sang  the  following : — 

"Three  times  have  I  been  born,  I  know  by  medita- 
tion; 

All  the  sciences  in  the  world  are  collected  in  my 
breast, 

For  I  know  what  has  been,  and  what  hereafter  will 
occur." 

At  this  Gwyddno  was  much  amazed  and  knew 
not  what  to  say  or  think. 

Then  Elpin  sought  his  wife  and  gave  to  her  the 
boy,  and  she  received  him  tenderly  and  lovingly. 
And  from  that  day  forward  good  luck  came  to  El- 
pin,  and  he  increased  in  riches  more  and  more,  day 
after  day,  and  in  love  and  favor  with  the  King  and 
his  people.  And  there  Taliesin  abode  until  he  was 
thirteen  years  old. 

Now  it  chanced  that  when  Taliesin  was  thirteen 
years  old  that  Elpin  went  by  a  Christmas  invitation 

328 


jfrom  tbe  HDabinoaton 

to  visit  his  uncle,  Maelgwyn  Gwynedd,  who  held 
open  court  on  Christmas  week  in  one  of  his  cas- 
tles. And  there  were  present  all  the  great  men  of 
the  realm,  lords  of  both  degrees,  spiritual  and  tem- 
poral, with  a  vast  throng  of  knights  and  squires. 

At  the  feast  one  of  the  lords  arose  and  said,  "Is 
there  in  the  whole  world  so  great  a  king  as  Mael- 
gwyn, or  one  upon  whom  heaven  has  bestowed  so 
many  gifts; — form,  and  beauty,  and  meekness,  and 
strength,  besides  all  the  powers  of  the  soul?" 

And  the  others  said  that  Heaven  had  given  one 
gift  that  exceeded  all  the  others,  and  that  was  the 
beauty  and  grace,  and  the  wisdom  and  modesty  of 
his  queen,  whose  virtues  surpassed  those  of  all 
the  ladies  and  noble  maidens  throughout  the  whole 
kingdom. 

And  with  this  they  put  questions  to  one  an- 
other, as — Who  had  braver  men  ?  Who  had  fairer 
or  swifter  horses  or  greyhounds?  Who  had  more 
skillful  or  wiser  bards  than  Maelgwyn. 

Now  at  that  time  the  bards  were  in  great  favor 
with  the  exalted  of  the  kingdom;  and  none  per- 
formed the  office  of  those  who  are  now  called  her- 
alds, unless  they  were  learned  men,  not  only  ex- 
pert in  the  service  of  kings  and  princes,  but  studi- 
ous and  well  versed  in  the  lineage  and  arms  and 
exploits  of  princes  and  kings,  and  in  discussions 
concerning  foreign  kingdoms  and  the  ancient 
things  of  this  kingdom,  and  chiefly  of  the  annals  of 
the  first  nobles;  and  who  also  were  prepared  al- 

329 


Udcmfcer  Stories 

ways  to  give  their  answers  in  various  languages- 
Latin,  French,  Welsh  and  English.  And  together 
with  this  they  were  great  chroniclers  and  record- 
ers, and  skillful  in  framing  verses  and  in  making 
englyns  in  every  one  of  these  languages.  Now  of 
these  bards  there  were  at  that  feast  within  the  pal- 
ace of  Maelgwyn  as  many  as  four  and  twenty,  and 
chief  among  them  all  was  one  named  Heinin 
Vardd. 

When  all  had  made  an  end  of  praising  the  king 
and  his  gifts,  it  befell  that  Elpin  spoke  in  this  wise, 
— "Of  a  truth,  none  but  a  king  may  vie  with  a 
king;  but  were  my  uncle  not  a  king,  I  would  say 
that  my  wife  was  as  virtuous  as  any  lady  in  the 
kingdom,  and  that  I  have  a  bard  who  is  more  skill- 
ful than  all  the  king's  bards." 

At  this  the  bards  were  much  displeased  and  in 
a  short  time  some  of  them  went  to  the  king  and 
told  him  all  the  boastings  of  Elpin;  and  the  king 
was  wroth  and  ordered  him  to  be  thrown  into  a 
strong  prison,  until  he  might  show  the  truth  as  to 
the  virtues  of  his  wife  and  the  wisdom  of  his  bard. 

When  Elpin  had  been  put  in  a  tower  of  the  cas- 
tle, with  a  thick  chain  about  his  feet,  (it  is  said  that 
it  was  a  silver  chain,  because  he  was  of  royal 
blood),  the  king  sent  his  son  Rhun  to  inquire  into 
the  virtues  of  Elpin's  wife.  Now  Rhun  was  the 
most  graceless  man  in  the  world,  and  there  was 
neither  wife  nor  maiden  with  whom  he  held  con- 

330 


ffvom  tbe  nDabinoafon 

verse  that  was  not  evil  spoken  of  and  suffered  in 
reputation. 

While  Rhun  was  going  in  haste  towards  Elpin's 
dwelling,  being  fully  minded  to  bring  disgrace 
upon  his  wife,  Taliesin  told  his  mistress  how  that 
the  king  had  placed  his  master  in  prison,  and  how 
that  Rhun  was  coming  in  haste  to  strive  to  bring 
disgrace  upon  her.  Wherefore  he  advised  his  mis- 
tress to  array  one  of  the  maids  of  her  kitchen  in 
her  own  apparel,  and  to  diguise  herself  in  the  ap- 
parel of  the  maid.  This  the  noble  lady  gladly  did; 
and  she  loaded  the  maid's  hands  with  the  best  rings 
that  she  and  her  husband  possessed. 

In  this  guise  Taliesin  caused  his  mistress  to  have 
the  maiden  sit  at  the  board  in  her  place  at  supper; 
and  thus  make  her  seem  to  be  the  mistress  and  the 
mistress  seem  to  be  the  maid.  And  when  in  due 
time  they  were  seated  at  supper  in  the  manner  that 
has  been  said,  Rhun  suddenly  arrived  at  Elpin's 
dwelling,  and  was  received  with  apparent  joy,  for 
all  the  servants  knew  him.  And  they  brought  him 
into  the  room  where  they  sat  at  supper,  and  the 
maiden  who  was  dressed  like  the  mistress  rose  up 
from  the  table  and  welcomed  him  gladly.  And 
then  she  sat  down  to  supper  again  and  Rhun  took 
a  seat  beside  her. 

Then  Rhun  began  jesting  with  the  maid,  who 
still  kept  the  semblance  of  her  mistress.  Now  as 
they  ate  and  drank,  the  maid  became  so  intoxi- 
cated that  she  fell  asleep;  though  it  was  thought 

331 


TJdonfcer  Stories 

that  it  was  a  powder  that  Rhun  had  put  into  the 
drink  that  made  her  sleep  so  soundly.  Then  while 
she  slept  Rhun  cut  from  her  hand  her  little  finger, 
whereon  was  the  signet  ring  of  Elpin,  which  he 
had  sent  to  his  wife  as  a  token  a  short  time  before. 

Then  Rhun  returned  to  the  king  with  the  finger 
and  the  ring  as  a  proof  to  show  that  he  had  cut 
it  from  the  hand  of  the  mistress  without  her  awak- 
ening from  her  sleep  of  intoxication.  At  this  the 
king  was  greatly  rejoiced  and  he  sent  for  his  coun- 
cillors, to  whom  he  told  the  story.  And  he  caused 
Elpin  to  be  brought  out  of  prison,  and  he  showed 
him  the  finger  and  the  ring  and  laughed  at  him 
and  chided  him  for  his  boast. 

But  Elpin  replied,  "With  thy  leave,  mighty  king, 
I  cannot  deny  my  ring,  for  it  is  known  of  many; 
but  verily  I  assert  that  the  finger  around  which 
it  is  was  never  attached  to  the  hand  of  my  wife; 
for  there  are  three  notable  things  pertaining  to 
this  finger  none  of  which  ever  belonged  to  any  of 
my  wife's  fingers.  The  first  is  that  it  is  certainly 
known  to  me  that  this  ring  would  never  remain 
upon  her  thumb,  whereas  you  can  plainly  see  that 
it  is  hard  to  draw  it  over  the  joint  of  the  little  finger 
of  the  hand  whence  this  was  cut;  the  second  thing 
is,  that  my  wife  has  never  let  pass  one  Saturday 
since  I  have  known  her  without  paring  her  nails 
before  going  to  bed,  and  you  can  see  fully  that  the 
nail  of  this  little  finger  has  not  been  pared  for  a 
month.  The  third  is,  truly,  that  the  hand  whence 

332 


from  tbe  flDabinoafon 

this  finger  came  was  kneading  rye-dough  within 
three  days  before  the  finger  was  cut  therefrom, 
and  I  can  assure  your  highness  that  my  wife  has 
never  kneaded  rye-dough  since  she  has  been  my 
wife." 

The  king  was  mighty  wroth  with  Elpin  for  so 
stoutly  withstanding  him  respecting  the  virtue  of 
his  wife;  and  he  ordered  him  back  to  his  prison, 
saying  that  he  should  not  be  loosed  thence  until 
he  had  proved  the  truth  of  his  boast,  as  well  con- 
cerning the  wisdom  of  his  bard  as  the  virtues  of 
his  wife. 

In  the  meantime  his  wife  and  Taliesen  remained 
at  Elpin's  dwelling.  Taliesin  had  shown  her  how 
Elpin  was  in  prison  because  of  them;  but  he  bade 
her  not  to  grieve  for  that  he  would  go  to  Mael- 
gwyn's  court  to  free  his  master.  Then  she  asked 
him  in  what  manner  he  would  set  him  free.  To 
which  he  answered  her  in  a  song: — 

I  Taliesin,  chief  of  bards, 
With  a  wise  Druid's  words 
Will  set  kind  Elpin  free 
From  haughty  tyrant's  bonds. 

Then  Taliesin  took  leave  of  his  mistress,  and 
came  to  the  court  of  Maelgwyn  whom  he  found 
just  about  sitting  down  in  his  hall  to  dine  in  royal 
state,  as  was  the  custom  in  those  days  for  kings 
and  princes  to  do  at  every  feast. 

333 


Member  Stories 

As  soon  as  Taliesin  entered  the  hall,  he  placed 
himself  in  a  quiet  corner  near  the  place  where  the 
bards  and  minstrels  were  wont  to  come  in  doing 
their  service  and  duty  to  the  king  by  proclaiming 
his  power  and  bounty.  So  when  the  bards  began 
to  sing  and  proclaim  the  power  of  the  king,  at  the 
moment  when  they  passed  the  corner  where  he 
sat  crouching,  Taliesin  pouted  out  his  lips  after 
them,  and  played  upon  his  fingers  saying, 
"blerwm,  blerwm !" 

They  took  but  little  notice  of  him  as  they  went 
by,  but  proceeded  forward  till  they  came  before 
the  king,  unto  whom  they  made  their  obeisance 
with  their  bodies  as  was  their  wont,  without  speak- 
ing a  single  word,  but  pouting  out  their  lips  and 
making  mouths  at  the  king,  playing  "blerwm, 
blerwm !"  upon  their  lips  with  their  fingers,  as  they 
had  seen  the  boy  do. 

This  sight  caused  the  king  to  wonder,  and  to 
think  within  himself  that  the  bards  were  drunk 
with  drinking  many  liquors.  Wherefore  he  com- 
manded one  of  his  lords  who  served  at  the  board, 
to  go  to  them  and  desire  them  to  collect  their  wits 
and  to  consider  where  they  stood,  and  what  it  was 
fitting  for  them  to  do.  This  the  lord  did  gladly; 
but  they  ceased  not  their  folly  any  more  than  be- 
fore. Whereupon  the  king  sent  him  a  second  time, 
and  a  third  time,  requesting  them  to  go  forth  from 
the  hall.  At  last  the  king  sent  one  of  his  squires 
to  give  a  blow  to  the  chief  of  them,  named  Heinid 

334 


ffrom  tbe  flDabinoaton 

Vardd,  and  the  squire  took  a  broom  and  struck 
the  chief  bard  on  the  head  so  that  he  fell  back  in 
his  seat. 

Then  he  arose  and  went  on  his  knees  to  the  king 
and  besought  him  leave  by  the  king's  grace,  to 
show  that  this  their  fault  was  not  through  want  of 
knowledge,  neither  through  drunkenness,  but  by 
the  influence  of  some  spirit  that  was  in  the  hall. 
And  he  said,  "Methinks  it  is  through  the  influence 
of  a  spirit  that  sits  in  the  corner  yonder  in  the  form 
of  a  child." 

Then  forthwith  the  king  commanded  the  squire 
to  fetch  the  child  before  him;  at  which  the  squire 
went  to  the  nook  where  Taliesin  sat,  and  brought 
him  before  the  king  who  asked  him  what  he  was 
and  whence  he  came.  And  in  reply  to  the  king, 
Taliesin  said  in  verse : 

"Primary  chief  bard  am  I  to  Elpin, 
And  my  native  country  is  the  region  of  the  sum- 
mer stars; 

I  was  with  my  Lord  in  the  highest  sphere 
On  the  fall  of  Lucifer  into  the  depths  of  hell. 
I  have  been  in  Asia  with  Noah  in  the  ark, 
I  have  seen   the   destruction   of   Sodom  and  Go- 
morrah, 

I  was  in  India  when  Rome  was  built, 
I  have  now  come  here  to  the  remnant  of  Trovia, 
I  have  been  teacher  of  all  intelligences; 
I  am  able  to  instruct  the  whole  universe." 

335 


Member  Stories 

When  the  king  and  his  nobles  had  heard  his  song 
they  were  full  of  wonder,  for  they  had  never  heard 
the  like  from  a  boy  so  young  as  he.  And  when 
the  king  knew  that  he  was  the  bard  of  Elpin,  he 
bade  Heinin,  his  first  and  wisest  bard,  to  answer 
Taliesin  and  to  strive  with  him.  But  when  the 
bard  came,  he  could  do  nothing  but  play  "blerwm" 
upon  his  lips;  and  when  the  king  sent  for  the 
others  of  the  four  and  twenty  bards,  they  all  did 
likewise,  and  could  do  no  otherwise.  Then  Mael- 
gwyn  asked  the  boy  Taliesin  what  was  his  errand 
at  the  court;  and  he  answered  in  a  song: — 

"Elpin,  the  son  of  Gwydno, 
Is  in  the  land  of  Artro 
Secured  by  thirteen  locks, 
For  praising  his  instructor; 
Therefore,  I,  Taliesin, 
Chief  of  the  bards  of  the  west, 
Shall  loosen  Elpin 
Out  of  a  golden  fetter." 

Then  he  sang  a  riddle  to  which  they  all  listened 
in  wonder : — 

"Discover  thou  what  is 
The  strong  creature  from  before  the  flood, 
Without  flesh,  without  bones, 
Without  vein,  without  blood; 
Without  head,  without  feet; 

336 


ut  totjen  U)C  bard  came  tjc 
could  do  nothing  but 


jftom  the  flDabmooion 

It  will  neither  be  older  nor  younger 
Than  at  the  beginning. 
Behold  how  the  sea  whitens 
When  first  it  comes, 
When  it  comes  from  the  south, 
When  it  strikes  on  the  coasts. 
It  is  in  the  field,  it  is  in  the  wood, 
But  the  eye  cannot  perceive  it, 
One  Being  has  prepared  it, 
By  a  tremendous  blast, 
To  wreak  vengeance 
On  Maelgwyn  Gwynedd." 

While  he  was  thus  saying  his  riddle,  there  arose 
a  mighty  storm  of  wind,  so  that  the  king  and  all 
his  nobles  thought  the  castle  would  fall  upon  their 
heads.  And  the  king  in  his  fright  commanded 
that  they  should  bring  Elpin  in  haste  from  his  dun- 
geon, and  place  him  before  Taliesin.  And  when 
Taliesin  saw  him  chained,  he  sang  a  verse,  and  im- 
mediately the  chains  dropped  from  his  limbs.  Then 
they  sent  for  Elpin's  wife  and  when  she  came  be- 
for  the  king,  at  Taliesin's  request,  she  showed  the 
king  her  hands,  and  they  saw  that  no  fingers  were 
wanting,  and  that  the  charge  made  against  her 
was  false. 

Then  the  king  commanded  Rhun  to  come  be- 
fore him  to  punish  him  for  his  false  accusation  of 
Elpin's  wife;  but  Taliesin  told  them  how  he  had 
been  deceived  by  one  of  the  maids  being  dressed 

337 


TOonftcr  Storic0 

like  the  queen,  at  which  they  all  laughed  at  Rhun, 
who  felt  ashamed  and  greatly  disgraced. 

In  this  manner  did  Taliesin  set  his  master  free 
from  prison  and  protect  the  good  name  of  his  mis- 
tress and  silence  the  bards  so  that  not  one  of  them 
dared  to  say  a  word.  Then  Elpin  and  his  wife  and 
the  boy  Taliesin  returned  to  the  court  of  Gwyddno, 
where  they  lived  in  great  happiness.  And  thus  it 
is  seen  that,  since  the  bard  was  worth  more  to  El- 
pin  than  a  haul  of  fish,  that  wisdom  is  better  than 
wealth. 

Taliesin,  literally,  the  "Radiant  Brow,"  was  a  Welsh  bard 
of  the  sixth  century.  He  is  the  greatest  of  the  ancient 
Welsh  poets,  and  is  called  by  his  countrymen  the  "Prince 
of  Song."  He  became  bard  at  King  Arthur's  court,  and 
was  one  of  the  most  distinguished  in  that  glorious  assem- 
blage of  brave  knights  and  beautiful  women.  Many  poems 
ascribed  to  him  are  preserved  among  the  Welsh  people  and 
believed  to  be  genuine  productions  of  his  genius. 

The  extracts  from  the  songs  of  Taliesin  here  given  are 
very  brief  as  compared  with  the  original,  but  they  are  full 
enough  to  give  an  idea  of  their  character,  and  as  thus 
abridged  will  be  more  interesting  to  the  young,  for  whom 
this  work  is  prepared.  Adult  readers  of  the  book  will  be 
interested  in  examining  the  complete  poems  as  found  in 
the  edition  of  the  Mabinogion  of  Lady  Charlotte  Guest. 


338 


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